Monday, September 5, 2011
I heard the old man
I heard the old man come in the front door. I took the quarter off the counter my mom left for me, and headed out the back door to the store for a coke and comic book, then to my favorite tree. He can’t find me and can’t hurt me. I sat in that tree for hours waiting until I knew I could go home. Some days I sat there until the library opened.