Tagged: memories

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A Village Besieged

I am a country dog. By this I do not mean I have a particular fondness for banjos, or that I am a follower of hip-hop trends (where it’s pronounced dawg), or that I...

Sunset at Casa Puente 2

Pirate Satellite Antenna

Fate. Love. Luck. Our lives seem to be defined by four-letter words, until we die and five letters show up to close the curtains. Growing up in what I’ve come to affectionately call “Shitville”,...

School kids 4

A+B = Me

The first day of school. I remember father’s waist, and a strange woman’s larger waist close by, and how both sounded cordial and good-natured as they exchanged pleasantries about the weather or, more relevantly,...

puerto angelito in august 0

In August

There is something about August. It shimmies between the roughest and the sweetest time of year, careless yet definite. Rooted in sultry Roman ancestry, it has now become suffused with the immateriality of teenage...