ReplayQuick Play
About
Snippet
On
the
sidewalk
across
from
me,
near
the
entrance
to
a
barbecue
joint,
some
people
were
holding
an
old-fashioned
revival
meeting.
The
barbecue
cook,
wearing
a
dirty
white
apron,
his
conked
hair
reddish
and
metallic
in
the
pale
sun,
and
a
cigarette
between
his
lips,
stood
in
the
doorway,
watching
them.
Kids
and
older
people
paused
in
their
errands
and
stood
there,
along
with
some
older
men
and
a
couple
of
very
tough-looking
women
who
watched
everything
that
happened
on
the
avenue,
as
though
they
owned
it,
or
were
maybe
owned
by
it.
The replay is still saving.