I moved to this town years ago.
Got this house, picked out some furniture, and started my new life here.
I was alone.
Confused.
Afraid.
After years of shakiness and instability, trying one self-help book after another, I turned to religion.
I sought out every faith there was, and they all gave me holy books to take home.
The Bible.
The Torah.
The Q’Ran.
The Book Of Mormon.
All of them.
I tried them all, and after years searching, I finally found one that was the right fit.
Steady as a rock.
No. Really. My kitchen table doesn’t wobble anymore.