Barry’s Cafe was the kinda place that catered to a local crowd. You could always be assured of three essentials: cheap drinks, strong pours, and a good time. The atmosphere? Light, good-natured and friendly. Barry’s was a unique place. A local joint with live music, pool tables and people from all walks-of-life; neighborhood down-and-outers, street-workers, …
Not much is known about Canada. It lies to the north of the USA, shrouded in forests and sparsely populated. Its primary export is logs. Its people keep themselves to themselves, stoically going about their business in a quiet, undemonstrative way; paying their taxes ungrudgingly, and voting for moderate political parties. It would be mysterious …
by Mark Lager
We are listening to the city at night, but we hear only the nothingness of silence. We are back inside the church as the humming of the organ and the tentative, two-note guitar strum return us to the revival.
What was this truth so deep and profound that it could not be spoken in words but only carried on the night wind through the streets in acts of silence?
It was revolution.
It was that which is called peaceful.
