I hope you don’t mind me contacting you after all these years ─ I couldn’t help it. Your sudden departure, so long ago, left me wounded and in need of closure.
It took me years to muster up the courage to write you this letter, and even then, you’ve probably noticed that this isn’t even my handwriting. I had a young and very smart girl by the name of Elizabeth Walton transcribe this letter for me ─ you’ll understand why as you keep reading.
My journey through life has been difficult and unstable. Yet, when the stress of it all was unbearable, my thoughts would always default to when Read the rest of this entry »
[A place from my past described in 500 words]
“The Shop,” as I called this no-name convenience store, was located on Route de la Folie, downhill from my house. The sidewalks leading to The Shop were so narrow that I would have to twist sideways (on my way there) to make room for anyone traveling in the opposite direction. It was nothing more than a wooden shack, about the length of three and a half sedans and topped with zinc roofing — but in it was everything we needed. Fruit stands lay on either side of the entrance (like a row of guards) completely encroached on the sidewalk and pedestrians had no choice but to step in the street to circumvent them. Bananas, mangoes, pineapples, oranges, lemons and limes all did their part to