If you want to crawl inside the possible world that opens when a dirt-poor, illiterate, former-share-cropin’, homeless 50-something enters the life of a swank, upscale, southern, Christian art dealer, read Same Kind of Different As Me. These two men tell their increasingly interwoven stories in alternating short chapters that kept me coming back night after night.

Their names are Denver Moore and Ron Hall. There is a woman who binds them together. But if I tell you what happens to her it might ruin the story for you.

Here are the kinds of lines that would keep me going even if the story didn’t (which it did):

• “Denver and I are not preachers or teachers but sinners with a story to tell.”
• “You never know whose eyes God is watchin’ you through.”
• “I hope people will recycle the love they’ve been givin’ to somebody that’s not easy to love.”
• “This earth ain’t no final restin’ place, so in a way we is all homeless.”
• “Just tell ’em I’m a nobody tryin’ to tell everybody about Somebody who can save anybody.”
• “How do you live the rest of your life in jus a few days?”