I loved Sunday School and I loved singing hymns. But I hated the long and boring sermons that followed. I sat with my friends on the back pew of the church, drawing, whispering, giggling, and ignoring the warnings of what awaited sinners in the hereafter. What happened in the hereafter was of no interest to me. I had other things to do, like playing with my siblings, picnics, swimming in the pond, Saturday matinees at Milwain's.
And then came revival time. And Brother Stair.
I wrote a story about that angst-riddled time in my life. It was accepted by Barely South Review, a literary journal created by students and faculty of Old Dominion University’s MFA program in southeastern Virginia.
Lost is on Page 185.