Jesus Boy. Preston L. Allen
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As I watched the woman’s bouncing backside flee the airport restaurant, I was filled with the wonder and mystery of my brother, the little preacher for whom the kiss had been intended, my little brother Elwyn Parker, whom I had never met.
When I got up the next morning, I heard voices in the house and not just my mom’s. They were already here.
I went into the bathroom and brushed and flossed my teeth and took care of some other urgent business. Someone pushed on the door, which had no lock. I didn’t want to be seen in the middle of my business, so I hurriedly yelled, “I’m in here!”
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