Stories From the Pages of History

a kid, me, devises clever tricks. a rope, a wagon, a two-wheeler, and a kid inside, like a horse and wagon, romanticized. of course, the carriage turns over, on its side, and i’d like the horse to kick me, as i make a child cry. just like my mother, but her drive was in Winter. a kid, caring for her sister, tucked in warm, cosy on a wooden sleigh. mom drove those sled dogs (in my head) several feet, without realizing her occupant, was missing, and then she chucked a snowball into the wind, like spit, losing the grocery money her mom had thrown her way. sure, kids lose things — keys, coins, their dignity, but stories make great kindling and burnt marshmallows taste refined.* 3/19/2018 *In other words, stories are great retold around the proverbial campfire.