This is what my father meant.
Not just a business.
Not just survival.
A place where people laid down their guard long enough to remember who they were under it.
Hank looked up from his plate.
“You okay?”
Naomi smiled.
“Yeah.”
He glanced around too.
Then back at her.
“Funny thing about roads,” he said. “Sometimes you think you’re just trying to get through somewhere,continue reading …
