Rebirth, Rebuild (Ch. 32)
Chris sat alone on a solitary bench overlooking the Mississippi river at Woldenberg Park. He watched the occasional jogger dart past as sounds of children playing around a nearby Cypress tree echoed, mixed with the melody from a trumpeter playing for tips up by the levee. His head and body were still physically exhausted by way of a one week (seemingly, to him), year and a half of a most wonderful world. The ride from which he'd just disembarked was dizzying, in retrospect. An occasional tourist ambled past, snapping memories on their cameras and cell phones with St. Louis Cathedral as the backdrop, as a couple of homeless men slept soundly under a cluster of trees just up from the riverbank. The late afternoon sun felt good to Chris; it shone like a heavenly spotlight as he absorbed the warmth and richness that it held. It was a feeling that had been long absent from his mind and in his heart on this journey. Chris l...