Fried Chicken

A potluck. A small church. There is more food here than people. A cooler of iced tea. Casseroles out the front door. Coffee. Coke. Fried chicken. I never met a potluck I didn’t like. Not even when I was in Kentucky and there was a casserole that allegedly had chunks of raccoon in it. I […]

Fried Chicken

True, that, Sean. Even church ladies in Iowa, for all their gossiping and politicking, cooked like mad, worried that everyone ate enough, and always, always believed in miracles.

Hallelujah.

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