For most of my childhood, I’d been plagued with visions of a stranger, always in my periphery. On the fringes of my view. He had always watched me play, and for the longest time, I thought he’d lived nearby. Perhaps in one of the few houses in the neighborhood, or as a transient from the old motel up the street from us. Every day that I’d ventured to the church, I saw him standing off a short distance from me. Not once did he approach me.
