Call it whatever you like. A vacation. A high school graduation present. Maybe even an escape. All I know is I’m as far from Miami as I’ve ever been.
I’m here because the Cuban Remedy failed. It’s forever ancient and reads like a recipe. Though the ingredients may vary from family to family, the goal is always the same: suffer heartbreak and your family will fix you. Except no amount of food and family could heal my heartbreak, so like a plotline from one of Mami’s telenovelas, they tricked me instead.
Friday’s Page 69 ~ Monsterstreet #4: Camp of No Return
“There’s still at least one left,” they heard Counselor Fuller say, now speaking a language they could understand. “The rest have been prepared.”
“It’s going to be a long trip to the next world,” Director McGee added. “It’s important that we never leave any behind. Everyone of them must go.
“Fall colors are funny. They’re so bright and intense and beautiful. It’s like nature is trying to fill you up with color, to saturate you so you can stockpile it before winter turns everything muted and dreary.”
First Chapter First Paragraph Thursday Intros ~ Heart Bones
There’s a picture of Mother Theresa that hangs on our living room wall where a television would go if we could afford the kind of television that hangs on the wall, or even a home with the kind of walls that could hold a television.
The walls of a trailer house aren’t made of the same stuff walls in a normal house are made of. In a trailer house, the walls crumble beneath your fingernails like chalk if you so much as scratch them.
Audio Blog Tour ~ Camp Lenape by Timothy R. Baldwin ~ Spotlight/Excerpt
If I iron or sew one more name tag on my stuff, I’m going to scream. There are name tags on my jeans, shorts, shirts, nightgowns, pajamas, sheets, pillowcases, sleeping bag, socks, sweaters, sweat shirts, underwear, and jackets. My mother’s having me put adhesive-tape labels on my comb, brush, and flashlight. There’s indelible ink on my fingers from putting my name on my sneakers. She’ll probably make me carve my name in the soap bars and on my eyeglass frames.