Miracles to Go

I remember the best AA meeting I ever attended. It was in a western town, a noon meeting in an old building next to the railroad tracks. I was new and not talking yet. I hunkered down on the dilapidated couch, comfortable from years of use, my hat pulled low. Cigarette smoke hung from the ceiling; sunbeams streamed at an angle, landing on a very old wood floor. The coffee was strong.