SATURDAY WAS THE BEST DAY OF THE WEEK
I remember having long blond curls; sometimes it was a job keeping them away from my face. That last Saturday truck trading was one of those days. For some reason everything seemed harder to manage than other times. My hands were full; in one I clutched my big rag doll and the other held crackers and peanut butter. I walked around the truck bed trying to see if all was right, or like I remember mama said she wanted it anyway. The light was peeking over the edge of the mountain, all that I could... Sign in to see full entry.