Lucy at one time was soft and pink and perfect. She’s now a dingy gray, dirtied and ragged from being dragged around playgrounds, baseball fields and…
It was the August I was turning twelve. This was long ago and twelve back then was still all innocence and naivety, still a year in which you were considered a child. Children today are just little adults; they’ve been handed a weighty world fraught with worries, about the future, about being gunned down in their…
My neighbor is mowing his lawn at 7am. I’m not bothered. The sound reminds me of things: stepping barefoot onto a newly mowed…
