Like when my cat got run over by the snowplow and the night my Dad drove off in our new 1962 Chrysler and never came home. Then there are things and people you don't want to forget. But how can you care that you forgot them, if you forgot them? Our neighborhood was like most in my small town – tree-lined streets, warping sidewalks cross-hashed with chalk for games of hopscotch, fenced yards, and tidy frame houses. My sister Jena and I, seventeen months apart, spent the summer between my third and fourth grade year collecting rocks from the road that looked like gemstones and building a tree house out of lumber scraps we dragged across the alley from where Mr. Richards was putting in a new sunroom. There weren't many kids in our neighborhood, and I played with them though they liked to get me into trouble. David lived across the street and Marla lived two doors up. They helped us with our tree house and we helped them do other stuff, like train David's fat beagle to pull a wagon and teach Marla the alphabet in sign language.
What do You think about Naked, On The Edge (2014)?
