All Kinds of Pain

We lived on a little one-block street that ran parallel to a bunch of other one block streets on the East Side, in Providence. And every street was different. Methyl Street, one block north, had a Mark Twain/Lord of the Flies flavor. Tons of boys. Playing in the street, all the time. My brother startedContinue reading “All Kinds of Pain”

A Mystery

I spent most of my childhood in a shy bubble. I was so slow to learn to talk, people started to worry. And when I did talk, it was at select times, to select few. I lived on the sidelines; sometimes it was comfortable there, watching. Often I pined for the world that whirred alongContinue reading “A Mystery”