when I was in that boat, wrestling that sail. But someone had to do it—I could see the waves were high, the wind a roaring gale. The others wouldn’t help, saying they were shocked, walking to Him, now ...
Stepping forward to receive the host, I spread out my palms before I remember these aide memoires inscribed in black biro, blots not quite scrubbed away. The leftnow sat awkwardly in right ...