Imagine living in a hand-scooped trench beneath a pier. A few years of stubble grown past the high school complexion, but hope no longer sparkles in the eyes. Consider the ocean view of an orphaned young man. Waves batter the shores without mercy. The horizon brings days of hard labor which…
Light dribbles through the oak canopies to anoint my hair. I stroll through the neighborhood's heady jasmine fragrance, holding my chin high. My cheek-straining grin is not aimed at that magnificent evening sky. My eyes do not sparkle in awe of coral-striped cirrus or the swallows' aerial ballet.HE is with me. His…
I peer into a hole in the mud. About two and a half inches in diameter, it sinks at an angle to a depth I cannot see. No one has walked along this side of the house in months, so I rule out poles and sticks. The abundant squirrels and overgrown…