He rings the intercom. A tie, a white shirt, and he’s weaving something about some opportunities.
“Are you a Jehovah’s Witness?”
— Yes…
— Come in!
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He comes in. I greet him warmly, agree with everything, and offer him tea. He retreats… citing some errands and that the car is not parked properly.
Apparently, he was expecting to be sent away. He didn’t believe. Like in that parable about praying for rain and the boy with the umbrella.