Two Journeys

Abstract

It took us twenty minutes to climb the slope. Waverly, my home for the next sixyears. I don’t recall the date, the weather, or even the time of day. I know it was the month of March and I was ten years old. My parents wanted me to study here. I am walking between my parents. Dark blue corduroys that were once my brother’s, a thick blue pullover knit by Ma, North Star boots and a pageboy haircut. The coolie is carrying the trunk up the slope.