Tiny Confessions From a Clothes Challenged Soul
<p>Itwas our motley, neighborhood rat pack of kids last week of summer. Adults didn’t dare approach us. With good reason.</p>
<p>We were up to no good. Count on it. And the scorching desert sun did nothing but inflame our streaks of wild.</p>
<p>By high noon it was 110 degrees and rising. We had challenged one another to cross tar sizzling streets barefoot. Cooked two eggs on the sidewalk and willingly injured ourselves on wet slip and slides set up with sprinklers.</p>
<p>My shirt had been tossed long ago. I had forgotten I was barely civil in a pair of short shorts. My brother arrived panting at my side. He had been mother’s messenger the entire summer and was now exhausted by his service.</p>
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