Monday, May 15, 2006

122/365 Roy

Held together by spit and anger, Roy used his prized jackknife to slice half-way through the neighborhood rope swing in the hope of witnessing some other kid crash to the ground. I don’t recall ever hearing him being called home. Not once. Not once.

3 Comments:

Blogger Helen said...

Oh, what a powerful post...

4:18 PM  
Blogger Indigo Bunting said...

Haunting on more than one level...

8:36 PM  
Blogger B Kiddo said...

saddest part to me was never hearing him being called home. Thought provoking to say the least.

11:01 AM  

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