by Cami Park
Me, my brothers, the neighbor kids, playing outside in our dandelioned yard. The tree house, the mulberries, my older brother teaching us to burp on purpose. Strangers walk by. The neighbor kids start, we join in— go back to Africa, go back where you came from. The words are steel marbles in our mouths.
3
favs |
1615 views
12 comments |
55 words
All rights reserved. |
Previously published in Rumble.
i like this and would love to know more ... (which wilmington? i used to live in the delaware one!)
It's a small town in Illinois. Thanks, Lauren!
Glad you posted this, Cami. I encourage people to read more Cami @ Rumble:
http://www.rumble.sy2.com/stories/three_park.html
Great stuff, Cami, brutal too.
Thank you, David and Craig-- love your comments!
Ouch. Growing up hard, in 55 marbles.
It is! Thank you, Zack. :)
I faved it, Cami. Love it. The last line is dynamite.
Thank you, Arlene!
Wow, Cami, this is good. Hits the gut like a medicine ball.
Thanks, Josh!
Reading this makes it almost like she's still here, talking to us again. So happy I came across this gem from a writer gone too soon.