Brown Street
Please note that I copied this from a pdf file, as it was all I had of the story. I may not edit it. June, 1977, I was 11, and remember it so well. I was walking down the street from my house when I saw a young boy about my age sitting in the grass on the side of the road at the corner of brown street. As I got closer, I noticed he was crying. I walked over to him and asked what was wrong. He looked up at me, a big red mark on his left cheek, and tears strolling down. He didn't speak a word to me but put his head back in his arms. I told him I could get my Mom, and he said no. Don't. That he would be okay. I nodded my head, swallowed, and turned around and walked back home. PART I February 5th, 1982 The air was cold this morning and I could see my breath in front of me as I walked. There was almost a foot of snow on the ground, most of it from the night before. Once it gets past two feet, that’s when they close schools. I walked down the road, nearing Brown Street now. ...