Lonely pastors

I was helping out at my daughter’s school, painting the walls. I got into a groove with another mother. She would hold the blue tape, and I would press it along the border. I used a small brush to do the detailed edging, while she would slather the wall with her roller. We talked about our kids, what they were taking and what program they were enrolled in. It’s an arts magnet, so there are many ways a conversation can go, depending on the teen’s major.

Finally, it went in that inevitable direction. “So, what do you do for a living?” she asked.

“I’m a writer.”