Next to me there are three tables pushed together bringing eight people together discussing a book.
There is one precious man to me. He just stuck out to me with his hearing aid, gray hair and purple sweater. His small figure and wrinkly face made me want to give him a hug and kiss his cheek.
They were just discussing the woman in the story who all the men wanted because she was too perfect to be real.
She was idolized.
The comment was made:
"Well isn't that what people do to God? They idolize and fear him."
"Oh, I don't!" my precious old man proclaimed.
I am pretty sure that is the first thing I have heard him interject in the last hour.
It is taking everything in me to not cry.
And I have not even spoken a word to him.
It hurts to smile at people walking by right now.
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