The Graveyard of Errors

<p>Life is simple when you are eleven. You only want one thing &mdash; to get out.</p> <p>My favorite day used to be the first one back from summer vacation. Until that Monday in August when an unexpected notice arrived. I barreled toward the bulletin board because I just had to see it with my own eyes.</p> <p>Green letters on an off-white page announced a back-to-nature camp.</p> <p>We devised strategies all afternoon to convince our parents to let us go away for five days. With minimal supervision, to an island of all places.</p> <p>The school helped by promoting it as an opportunity for character building. Since our guardians collectively called our generation&nbsp;<em>soft,&nbsp;</em>their decision was unanimous, too. We played along, hiding our enthusiasm.</p> <p><a href="https://medium.com/tantalizing-tales/the-graveyard-of-errors-82d732512cb2"><strong>Read More</strong></a></p>