Tuesday, December 2, 2008
We often picked her up on our way to school. I remember she was a quiet little girl and I can picture the house where she lived. One day we saw the word “fuck” written in some new cement. I was instantly nauseous and to this day don’t have a clue why I recognized that word or why it made me ill to see it.
Posted by Bev Sykes at 12:02 AM