I lie shivering on the hard concrete. The towel has fallen off. I grab it and wrap it around my body again. I am afraid to go back to sleep because I don’t want that dream again. Is it nearly morning? It is dark. I listen carefully. There are no bird sounds, only the chirrrp chirrping of a noisy cricket. I slowly allow another memory to come to me, chasing away the impact of the dream.
I was now the man of the house. That’s what the Pastor said when he came to visit M...