“What goes around, comes around, again and again and again,” Sharlie muttered, shuffling her feet – along with all her fellow shift workers at Widgetties Inc — over the cracks and buckles in the sidewalk that led up to the factory’s tall, iron double doors. Her steel-toed boots were worn, soles held to uppers with fraying duct tape. “Uh-huh, Baby needs a new pair of shoes, but first she needs a different, better job.” Continue reading
graduate
Summer, Early ‘80’s
Indiana Summer, in cheap housing with no a.c., a mixed neighborhood of blue collar, elderly, and our houseful of assorted grad students, temporary sublets like me. Continue reading