Do you ever look at the people around you and wonder how you ended up with them?
Carolee DeanMots clés jessica
It brings back a long-forgotten memory of Christmas, the year I turned six. I was supposed to be in bed, but I was up waiting and watching for my father or Santa Claus, whoever came first.
Carolee DeanMots clés dylan-dawson
As soon as I left one town, I was in another, each one a totally different world, as if an invisible box surrounded its edges, keeping everybody in their proper place.
The rich stayed rich. The poor stayed poor. The troublemakers stayed in trouble.
Mots clés dylan-dawson
Did you know that seventy-five to eighty percent of juvenile offenders can’t read at grade level?”
“Really?” This was news to me.
“Your world becomes a much smaller place if you can’t read. You have far fewer options. It’s not the only factor, but it’s a big one. If they want to know how big to build a prison,
all they have to do is look at the illiteracy statistics.”
“They knew I was coming.”
“You or someone like you.”
“You knew it too, all those years ago, back in Quincy. That’s why you tried to help me. Because you knew I was coming here.”
“Here or someplace like here.
Mots clés dylan-dawson
Testimony to her belief that life could be managed if things were only kept in their proper places.
Carolee DeanMots clés dylan-dawson
I have a class in Hermosa Beach that starts at eight, but …”
I wanted to offer to pick up her car, drive her back to Hermosa Beach, take her to the moon.
Mots clés jessica dylan-dawson
It's not the Destination...it's the Journey..
Carolee Deani carry a message
that i can not read.
the words may be haunting ,
or tender or sweet.
though what it says,
i don not know.
i still carry it with me ,
where ever i go.
Mots clés take-me-there
I hear my father's voice faintly, over the telephone, answering for me in a soft drawl. "He's my son." He reaches out his hand, pressing it against the glass, as if trying to touch me. He smiles, and I see a tear making its way down his cheek.
[...]
I press my hand up against my father's and I'm suddenly close enough to the glass to see my reflection, blurred by the tears now filling my eyes. I wipe them away with my fist and take a good look at my father.
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