On Sunday mornings, we drive down the windy road to the little white Southern Free Will Baptist Church.
It’s a beautiful Virginia Saturday and I’m banished to the bedroom upstairs at Chestnut Street when a rock hits the window. “Psst!
Grandma has been sitting with me for an hour with a jar of peanut butter trying to loosen up the wad of gum that Sadie stuck in my hair.
When I tell people my parents are divorced I get a sympathetic sigh as if it is the most tragic thing they can think of, which makes no sense to me
My father’s spot is on the short end of the L-shaped couch, facing the television.