"Great Aunt Mary," asked my sister. "Can I cut your hair?" "Sure, honey," she said. "Go get the scissors."
childhood
A Ghost Story
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single ghost in possession of a haunted house must be in want of a scare. Block Island is the black sheep of the northeast Atlantic. I grew up going there two weeks every summer with family and cousins. Leaving it after the two weeks gave my heart … Continue reading A Ghost Story
Heist
There is a sneak in me left over from childhood. I was the one who quietly picked up the phone to listen in. I found a way to walk up our old wooden steps without making them squeak. I listened to adults talk at parties and heard things I shouldn’t have. I crawled out my … Continue reading Heist
Circa 77 