Fiction Treg Isaacson — November 20, 2012 12:32 — 1 Comment
Sneaking – Treg Isaacson
Clare and I couldn’t leave after we’d dropped him off so we drove around campus and parked in a lot, hiked a small trail overlooking the practice fields. We pushed through trees, looking out for poison oak, often sliding backwards one step for every two we took up the leaf-strewn hill in our flip-flops, so that we could peek over a fence during his first day with the other boys. I told her we couldn’t stay too long, that we couldn’t let anyone see us, that the other players would tease him. I made her leave before she was ready. She made me drive through a parking lot so that we could look at the field, so that we could try to see him out there with the team before we started on our way back.
The answer isn't poetry, but rather language
- Richard Kenney