Author: James Riley - page 29

Pleasure

The deck outside our kitchen window is newly finished, and it aches for teak furniture of some sort, and striped cotton pillows, and iced buckets of chardonnay and the barbecue simmer of steak and green peppers in olive oil.   Music would be nice–and friends, of course–and one of those well-buttered conversations that sizzles on..

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Brittle Believer Goes Boom

Have you ever attempted a long chat with someone who doesn’t appear to be living on this planet? I have.  I could say many things about them, but it’s clear they see no heaven in the here and now.  The kingdom is not “at hand,” for them.  It’s somewhere else.  Somewhere far away.  They wish..

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