Tagcollege

ICE BOX

When I was twelve, my aunt bought a trailer and dropped it in a gravel parking lot in Monticello, Indiana. It was her summer home. Every weekend she would drive the two and a half hours to sit in air conditioned gloom and read while my cousins bothered her for quarters to play at the arcade that was further up the lot.

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DOG

I was a dog. Conditioned to cringe at the sound of a ringing telephone or the crackle of a two-way radio. I wore both on my belt and they screamed at me all day, their combined weight tugging on my jeans with every step. Continue reading