When the panic died there were folx who hadn't moved other than to let other folx out. Somebody shouted, "If you're stay'n we're stay'n." That's when the pastor looked at the masked man and nodded. “Thank you, deacons.” The men removed their mask and took their seats. The pastor looked at who was left and said. “We can start church now.”
Brandma’s House is still standing, but shit was creaking in a few places, and the rooms were begging to be converted into Wings. So I’ve been pulling up rugs, patching walls, and tossing shit left and right because it didn't fit or I didn't wanna be bothered.
