The older girls came to stay with us sometimes Pops’. There were two of them and two of us. Two perfect pairs. The little store up the street from Pops’ house sold blue cream sodas. And cigarettes to minors. And the older girls smoked because they thought it made them cooler. Even older. More mature….
TRDC
Success is counted sweetest
It was a June morning. Sunny, but not overly hot like Georgia summers can be. What we call a “mild” day in the south. I was nervous. Afraid I’d be late. Afraid I’d get lost. Just afraid. I climbed out of my car in the parking deck and made my way down the stairs to…
The thin red line
I hear the little bundle of blankets stirring gently to my left. I hear my husband snoring softly to my right. I try to get up to quiet the baby but I can’t. There is pain–blinding, searing pain like lightning behind my eyes–when I try to move, and I am reminded, quite quickly, that I…
The scent of torment and love
My mama lied about her age so she could start working in a restaurant as soon as she turned 15. By the time she became a single mother to me 9 years later, she’d moved to another state, but her job was the same. And now it was a job of necessity instead of choice….
I am 7, after all
I feel the soil between my toes, hard and a little dusty. I can see the heat in the bean field rising up over the bushes as I amble between the rows, relentlessly throwing the little bean pods into the five-gallon bucket that my smallish 7 year old self won’t be able to move soon….