Hey, aren’t you that guy who fixes cars?” Katie asked,
looking at my grease-covered work pants as if she couldn’t believe I ever left the garage.
“Yeah, they let me out every now and then,” I said.

Carolee Dean

Tag: dylan-dawson

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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 Dean

Tag: dylan-dawson

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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.

Carolee Dean

Tag: dylan-dawson

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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.

Carolee Dean

Tag: dylan-dawson

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Testimony to her belief that life could be managed if things were only kept in their proper places.

Carolee Dean

Tag: dylan-dawson

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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.

Carolee Dean

Tag: jessica dylan-dawson

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