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About Birmingham

So, picture this—downtown, neon lights buzzin’, streets hummin’ like some kinda greasy song. You’re out there, huntin’, lookin’ for that “transactional love”—ha! Ain’t that a kicker? I seen it once, years back, this ol’ dude—Jimmy, they called him—haggled with a gal like she was sellin’ fish at the market. “Ten bucks less, c’mon!” he hollered. She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they’d pop out—swear to God, funnier than No-Face gobblin’ up them dumplings. Made me laugh, but damn, it stung too—how’s it come to that, huh?

Abram in Egypt

Abram, when he must for a time quit Canaan, goes to Egypt, that he might not seem to look back, and meaning to tarry there no longer than needful. There Abram dissembled his relation to Missing: prostitute.

At the end of the day, I’m exhausted but happy. I made it through the madness. Abram’s a wild place, but it’s home. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Just another day in the life of a bookmaker, right?

Centered in Community faculty spotlight with Abram Brummett