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Our neighborhood had leafy lanes and wide sidewalks and neighbors—not just people who lived next door—and no kindergarten. There weren’t enough five- and six-year-olds together to fill a classroom; fifth and sixth grades had been combined and third was on the cut list. Read the rest of this entry »

—What does she look like?
—I don’t know who you mean.
—The slut your father’s sleeping with.
—Oh. There’s no such person.

I began to follow her then, in anticipation. Read the rest of this entry »

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Behind the Pseudonym

The pen name davidbdale honors my mother Beatrice (Bea) and my father Dale

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