The priest’s wife handed me her half full can of beer. It was Christmastime, and the beer she was offering was a Texas IPA, sweating seductively on the table between us. I brought the can to my lips and the slightly bitter taste of the half-warm beer filled me with relief. I needed a drink. [Read More...]
from
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2017/02/epiphany-memory-unit/
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