they pulled my hair at charm school.
they
stole my guestbook during
rolecall.
shifting gears, highlight summer94 + 13 January _2003 = 2:44 p.m.
_ summer, 1994. Sean B. is giving me a ride home in his old beat-up black Saab. one has to climb in through the passenger window. the frame rattles once he passes 40m.p.h. he has an old tape deck and he shoves something electronic sounding in. air rushing at us and it almost takes your breath away. amplified noise. speeding by fields of tall grass & old farm houses & the one store in town. spend time examining the freckles on my arms. he explains his plans for a summer abroad before starting college. sandy blonde hair & he keeps brushing it out of his face. later, in the fall, he will send me odd ten page missives written in a cursive script that leans to the left. i will look for signs in it. mostly,though, he tells me stories about why the letter is not turning out well: aliens invaded his house, he had to save his little brother from a kidnapper, etc.etcetc. faded in memory & wonder where he went...
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