Poverty sometimes leads to frustration, then regret, and later, understanding.
“Put on your shoes. I need you to go to the store for me.”
Ah. Back in the day. Neighborhoods had local grocery stores within walking distance. The streets were reasonably safe. You could have your eight-year-old child walk to
I am an aspiring writer, living and studying in London. I work part-time as a shop assistant, I am writing my first novel and I have big dreams. There’s a certain kind of romance in what I do: I wear a uniform and go to work, meet different kinds of
It is an immeasurable shame to have been branded with something so public, from which you cannot escape.
I wake to a pounding at my bedroom door and my father’s booming voice: "Tell that mother fucker if he wants to show his face around here
*This is Part 2 in a series. To read the first installment, click here.
In October 2004, I went on a family vacation. It was fun but, as with all family trips (at least in my family) it was exhausting, and I was ready to sink into