I cant remember who suggested that we go skinny dipping that night.I imagined a veritable walk of shame back to Lilys house.

Darlin, thats a championship team. As I regard his 60-something stride, the scream fighting to escape my throat dissolves into a plan.

I had a dream fueled by hope but mostly idealistic navetWith the firmly resounding hammer blow with my pickaxe came a thunderbolt moment of clarity born of every slight, every wound, I had until then ever known.

Oh, what the hellgo be one of the guys!My panicky gut sent up red flares!

I became daring in the dark. My grip froze. I gulped the moist night air and licked my lips.

Dont panic. Keep your feet up.It bucks and dips, pitches and plunges while cold water slams you every few seconds.

Should I tell my mother what I decided to do?A 5-year-old, less than one meter tall, I slipped through the turnstile without being noticed.

We were trying out young adulthood, but there were rules.What I recall is moonlight through a picture window until we heard his door open, Marshalls deep, slow Tennessee twang.

I had a layover in Elmira, New Yorksix hours long.Warblers, whistlers, and trillers sang. Joe and Maybe Dave knew when not to talk, too, when beauty itself was the conversation.

I began to pass little crosses made of sticks and string.It was fully dark outside now, a blackness unrelieved by any shaft of human-created light.