Night Rain

0 Comments 10:45 pm

There are few things better than an Ohio rain. The air smells like wet ground, just like those nineteen-nineties nights on family camping trips. I remember walking the dark wet paths, toothbrush in one hand, flashlight in the other. No matter where I was… what state, what country, the forest always had the same look about it, the same smell. I can still see my sister’s shadow on the gravel road ahead of me and hear the scuffling of my flip-flops as I hurry after her. In all our childhood, I never remember her being afraid of the dark.

One thought on “Night Rain”

  1. Jackie says:

    :) (This made me smile, that's all)

Leave a Reply

Mothers and MeMothers and Me

I rifled through old papers in yet another fit of obsessive cleaning. Mixed in a folder of stickers, old poems, and magazine clippings I found a couple letters from my

Midwest GenderQueer Trans/GenderQueer Writings