A warm breeze swept along the water as the old lady and her hulking adult son wheeled the food cart onto the river path.  A puff of steam rose from the cauldron as the old woman removed a sweaty lid and stirred the broth.  Her gigantic son set up a folding table, and carefully organized several rows of empty paper cups.  She ladled the hot soup into the small receptacles, and said a prayer.  Continue reading All That Nighttime By Morgan Boyd →