Young people Stories

The first bus into town filled up after three stops. The one nearest our house was the second, and it usually meant that the queue was large and messily scattered across the footpath. People chatted in groups, dotted incrementally in random patterns. They stood together in twos, not all of them couples, not all of them of mixed sex. Some, like me, preferred their own company and suffered the sympathetic nods of recognitio...

Summer days. Two gals, riding along, bikes jiggling down country lanes, past sweltering fields of beans and corn. Together as always in those days. Laughing and singing. Tasting the ripened berries. Holding hands, walking through hallways of an old brick schoolhouse smelling of caustic cleansers. One day you hugged Trudy goodbye. Feeling her thin shoulders tense up. The porch screen door squeaked. "Get on home, Becca. It'...