We were all driving up Paca Street, just about to turn the corner onto Druid Hill Ave. Destination: home. It was a gorgeous, sunny spring day. All the sounds of the city, the klaxons of impatient drivers, the sirens of cops and firefighters rushing off to help victims or put out fires, real, figurative or just perceived. Of course, with me in the car, the topic of religion arose, the context of which I don't remember. What I do recall, as we turned right onto my street, cherry blossoms blowing… Continue