A church once stood in the place I looked for flowers this morning. A fire had destroyed the building; you could see the footprint and some charred remains. The land around was covered in Eucalyptus, poison oak, and pretty pink flowers. Houses were nearby.
I stood in the char and the pastor pulled up in his car. Came out. We talked for an hour where the steps to his house of worship once were. Drizzled. He said things change all the time.
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