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A Short Story : A Story?

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—” “Paul?” Paul didn’t know what to say. He had no feel for this guy, and so much seemed to be happening inside him. So much he didn’t understand. He managed a weak, “Yeah.” “I’m glad you called. I’ve been praying for you, brother. The Lord has laid you heavily on my heart.” Paul was confused. This guy, a complete stranger, actually seemed to care about him. Didn’t the guy know how evil he was? Ah, this was all so messed up. “I don’t know what to say.” “You don’t have to say anything. Just know that God loves you, brother.” Paul was so uncomfortable. Something inside him was getting twisted to the breaking point. “Whatever.” “Paul, can we meet?” He had nothing else. No hope for getting out of the mess he was in. But did he need this? Still, he said yes. * The restaurant was a typical family place. It was in a valley alongside a busy, steeply sloped street in a northwest suburb. It seemed protected somehow—ensconced, grounded, stable in the earth. Paul, hardly able to believe he was doing this, pulled into the parking lot. Shaking his head he made his way in. Kurt sat at a table in the middle of the restaurant and when he saw Paul he stood and waved. What am I doing here? Paul thought. He nearly turned and walked out. What had he been thinking calling this guy? The guy was a nut. This couldn’t help him. Kurt put out his hand but Paul didn’t shake it. Paul frowned. “Hey listen, my bad, guy. I gotta be honest with you, I don’t know why I came. It’s just a mistake. Sorry

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