Keep Coming Back

His pockets hold no coins, has shoes but no socks, his past chases him from debt collectors, looking for an address. Warrants wait with cruel anticipation, his reputation and watch recently pawned for that ”one last drink.” Yet, in his trembling hand glows a miracle, no, the battery won’t hold a charge, but a cell phone, cracked, tattered, but still catching a one bar signal. He scrolls through photos of a family, a life once his, and then, a little message appears: ”Listen to the Alcoholics Alive Podcast.”

passive encouragement, love that.