where willow and sycamore trees grow

C1 [Is that glue in your blue beard?]

My mom used to tell me stories about how not only sycamore trees grow by the Salinas River in California, but how old and young love rumbles deep in the waters that run deep and green. She met my dad while he was shirtless and smoking tobacco on the hood of a beat up old Volkswagen just off some abandoned road among a few dead willow trees. She, a born and bred North Carolinian of Fayettenam, was as lost as jam is on a puppy.

Contrary to expectations, their meeting was not all harps and cupids. As the seventeen year old daughter of two war veterans and a descendent of a long line of Methodist pastors, she reacted accordingly. She took a peak around before she slammed her stilettos into his side door and yelled, "Give me a smoke or I'll lynch you!"

Let's just amen the fact that there was no lynching that day. We'll leave that to, "Of Mice and Men".

Teaser