We all have our favorites. This is mine. It is the forbidden fruit. I can't sell it because I never obtained a photo release. It is that one shiny red apple hanging just out of reach that I will never be able to grasp.
Taken in 1969 at a war protest, I watched the interplay of the father and child as they wound themselves through the crowd to get closer to the speaker. As a black panther spoke to the gathered hoard, the father hoisted the child onto his shoulders as if to say "Remember this, you are watching history unfold". The protest over, the crowd dispersed, we all were left with our own thoughts. As I stood there trying to sort through what was my opinion and what was only the remnants of the rage replayed that afternoon, I caught the eye of the child as they left. We connected. I am guessing he is now around 45 years old. Where is he, how did his life play out? I will go to the grave wondering.
1156 - Harvest - Sunday Whirl (Wordle #321) presents a list of words that we must incorporate in a writing piece. The words this week are: possible, pretense, individua...
3 days ago