where the writers are

Vickie Jenkins's Writings

Short Story
I didn't want to go. It was a sunny May Sunday and I had new LPs to listen to.  Poems to write.  Acne to pick.  The things a tomboygirl does in her pre-teen years. But Mom insisted. "It's Mother's Day and we're going to see her." Her meaning Mom's mom. She was in a nursing home in another farm town, about an hours drive from us.  But I didn't want to go...