M.B. HENRY

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In the summer of 2016, I drove down an isolated road in Southern Georgia.  There wasn’t much around.  There were just a few run-down houses here and there.  Cotton fields stretched to the horizon.  Silence hung heavy along with the heat. There were only a few signs with arrows to point me to my destination.  I followed them to a small parking lot that was practically empty of cars.  A quiet visitor… Read More