Excerpt from a letter to a friend ~
When I was young my family moved to upstate NY. I believe I may have been 2 years old. We were the first interracial family most of the people in the small hamlet where we resided had ever seen
A wayward robin taps
Sheila & Gus. Not that I didn’t love them. I did, like the back of my hand. But they drove me nuts. They were both on disability, God bless them,
Love thy neighbor. I say, love yourself first. Love the piece of ground that you find yourself standing on. Love the sight of home and hearth.
About four months ago, I was getting ready for work. It was my usual rushing around in the morning: Hair washed? Check! Have shoes on? Check! Book to read on BART? Check! All ready to go!
As fodder for a writer, I have had the good luck to have two murderers as neighbours. Well . . . almost.
My ideal kind of neighbor would come out of a dormitory style living situation. I would share perhaps a four-plex with some hip, cool 30 somethings.
I have a friend that is 23 years younger than me. I’m only a few years younger than her mother. Yet I’m not a mother figure at all to her. I’m a go
Kenneth and I once had neighbors who wrote fan mail to our cat. We didn't really know these neighbors, a retired couple, just said hello now and then. Their backyard bordered ours. Zooey was a
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