I look over to my father’s seat, trying to see where his foot meets the gas pedal. His shorts end just above his knees, and his legs are covered in fur-like hairs that my own legs have only begun to sprout… I’m wondering how big you have to be before you can drive a car.
Yesterday, you bought kitschy souvenirs in Chinatown. You rode—on the outside!—of a streetcar…Today, you are returning to the routine of your life in Louisville: to the day job, and the bills, and the being too busy to really write the way you want.
The streets in New Hope, Pennsylvania are tree-lined, the restaurants have charm, the engagement rings we finally choose are hand-crafted. But how closely does what I feel match what she sees?
The scene: a varsity basketball game held in some old, small gym in some old, small town, one where fans waited in line to get their hands stamped in exchange for flimsy red ticket stubs.