Embrace Me (2010)

Cover Embrace Me
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Genres: Fiction
Now that I know what became of Daisy—even though I still don’t know how she was burned—the loathing I feel for myself comes on afresh.
But years ago, a wise friend told me I was blurring the lines between self-loathing and repentance. He pointed out there was a difference and one doesn’t necessarily lead to the other. When I met him, folks called him The Black Jesus, though his name was Chris. Our conversations will always remain with me. Wish he lived around here.
Chris spent most of his days
...over by the Basilica of the Assumption, on the Charles Street side in the heart of Baltimore. He set Bible verses on cards all around him and played the flute. When people asked if he took donations, he’d say, “Only for the flute playing. The rest is for free.”
He played Celtic-style songs which, excuse me for saying, just didn’t sound right coming from a black man sporting an afro the diameter of an extra-large pizza.
I sat down next to Chris on his slab of cement, crossed my legs Indian style, and reached into the brown paper sack I’d carried up from the Afghani restaurant down on the next block.
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