Speak.
I remember the way the room looked. Like I could reach out and touch the velour couch and run fingertips through mottled carpet shag. And if I close my eyes, I can still smell the fried chicken cooking in a cast iron skillet. Everyone still in Sunday church clothes. Men on the porch and women in the kitchen. Granny Mary sang an old gospel hymn in the next room, but holy was not around. And even as a small child, I could sense it. I don’t know how vile and evil slipped into th