I knew my uncle would win. He always won.
I have a feeling this little story got lost in the blog. I renamed it: "The Mean Lady" Enjoy 🙂
We could hear the waves and we could smell the ocean as the sun watched us slide down the tall bluff. We scraped the bottoms of our feet, dragging our towels through the hard clay. Rocks hurt our pinky toes. Behind us our parents brought sandwiches in tin foil and bigger blankets, bits of home … Continue reading Ghost Punch: a Block Island memory
I could hear her behind me.
When we got out of the car and stood in the parking lot, Eva and I discovered we were Woodlanders. “Across the field,” said a big lady. I heard the word “bye” sprinkled around me like rainfall and I said my own bye – “See you in a week!” said my mother. I could see … Continue reading Lady of the Ants
Circa 77 