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Her World

My girl and I used to spend hours every Saturday evening strolling our way around the cul-de-sac; her on her Ariel-red trike, and me walking beside. She waved hello to every house, not caring if there were people inside.

“There’s no one there, honey.”

“There might be. They might just keep the lights off.”

My girl never knew the world beyond her neighborhood. Harris Mitchell got wasted off of Bud Lights and made sure of that. Her wheels were still spinning by the time I got there. Her silver streamers stuck in the mud.

I keep the lights off, nowadays.

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