NOTHING BUT BLUE SKY

It’s not all wrong, which means it's all good: “From the Blue Sky” located under the heading Fiction at the Trailer Park Quarterly. I call it “flash memoir,” a specific moment in time captured and recorded and published on the internet. I’m still writing, trying to wrap my thoughts around everything that’s happened within the past few years. One snapshot in time (or is it a series of slides?)—my Bio, my Tagline—seems very foreign, if not surreal: “…lives in a 1970’s brick ranch near Detroit.” I do remember appearing at a coworker’s colonial house on a freezing cold day in March with a handful of clothes in my arms. We still laugh about my not having shoes or socks on my feet, how I stood there on his cement porch asking if I could stay the night and after he’d said “yes,” how I had returned to my car for a dresser drawer (what quicker way is there to get out?) full of socks and underwear.  Not so funny then, but laughable now, especially my lavish spending the next day at Target’s purchasing Dockers & cheap pull over shirts—a nice rotation of work duds which didn't go unnoticed by the prisoners in my classroom. I’ve learned a lot about people since then—the good and the bad—and I can honestly say that I’m glad I made it to the Trailer Park. I’m in good company. Thanks Rebecca. Thanks Daniel. If you haven’t already been there, you’re invited to my latest humble abode at TPQ3 (knock on the door, they're friendly, trust me).