The Sad Life And Miraculous Powers of Santiago
"Two months before the trial date, I sat at the kitchen counter, scratchpad in hand, generating excuses. My grandmother is sick in the hospital. Scratch. My mother is sick—scratch. I’m sick in the hospital—and writing to you from my sick bed. Who’s your doctor? Scratch. I’ve moved to another state. I want to move to another state. My car is broke. Take the bus! I’m broke. Scratch. The summons sat on the table in the entry hall while I agonized over foolproof excuses to get taken off. This after I was refused any more six-month deferments. I kept assuming life circumstances would somehow take care of the reasons. Instead life only managed a slow snowfall of other mail to bury the summons until it was too late to do anything but...go."
(to read the rest of the story in the fall issue of The Normal School, go to: http://www.thenormalschool.com/ )