08 Jun
I remember blackberry bushes growing wild everywhere. The drive between San Francisco and San Jose was lined with endless pastures, rolling hills, half collapsed barns, and railroad tracks. Nothing but golden hills.
Little towns appeared at the intersections of divided highways and county roads, three shops and a gas station. Music playing on the radio, little [...]
20 May
Legend has it, according to my mother, that right around the time my older brother grasped the difference between “tee-taw” and “big truck” — the former being the previous expression meant to suggest the latter — we were sitting in our black 1969 Volkswagon Beetle watching some road construction go down.
It was all eyes on [...]
My mother loved this painting when I was a little boy. She loved it so much that my father bought it for her. It hung on the wall in our unhappy house. As a child I loved this painting. Sometimes I would pretend that the boy in the picture was me, other times I imagined [...]
On our way to our mother’s house for thanksgiving, my brother completely surprised me by stopping off the highway and driving us to the only school we ever attended together.
There is was, almost exactly the way we’d left it in 1974. The only notable changes were the new principle’s name and photograph, displayed outside her [...]
Category: enfance malheureux