"I'm hot," Charlene said. We were in the public park, a largely unused expanse of dirt and concrete offering little in the way of shade. The last of the Dutch elms had succumbed that spring, and the newly planted maples had a long way to go before they could cast a worthwhile shadow. What remained of the grass had turned the color of wheat. The two of us sat on a hill reading last month's issue of True Confessions magazine.
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I'd forgotten what it was to be that young. During one of my summers of innocence I lifted from the shelf of a local, small candy store something called a "marshmellow pie." It wasn't a pie at all but was more like a round, flat candy bar made up of two gram crackers with a marshmellow center, the whole thing covered with a sweet chocolate.
Thank you for returning me to my early youth for a few moments even if it was only in my imagination.
Reviewed by Blossom Abdi
6/2/2004
Wow! That was a great story. You actually took me to that place and day . I could picture everything. I wonder why you didn’t continue these two little rascals’ lives to adulthood. This could make a great book,I wonder, have you ever written a book? if not, what are you waiting for :) Keep it up.
My second book is about a boy who has Asperger's Syndrome and is bullied to the point to where he shoots up his school. I have divided the excerpts from it into three parts: Before, during and after the shooting.
The bulk of the collection is eight short stories that are set in yesteryear. The compilation is filled out with four entertaining fantasy pieces and three poems.
