Two great stories.
1. I was in my early 20s but with full adult awareness/memory at my mother’s house for a family get-together. We were playing a game called Bump at the dining room table when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” I said and crossed the kitchen for the entry and started to open the door. As was usual for me at that age (newly returned from Iran with a huge distrust of men), I opened the door only a crack just to see who was there. It might seem odd that I even volunteered to get the door if I was so afraid of finding a man there, but my frame of mine was one of controlling the situation. If it wasn’t someone I would want in the house, I could refrain from letting them in you see.
It was a very large rough looking middle-aged man with a gun tucked into…
View original post 1,325 more words
Leave a Reply