That Summer- Part One

1 Dec

I was sixteen that summer. I was lanky with long, stringy hair and pale in a Victorian era cherished kind of way. Needless to say, I was not sought after by boys during these coming of age years. Anyway, that summer I needed a job. My uncle on my mother’s side, who I’d remained in touch with despite no longer being on speaking terms with the mother herself, bragged he could get me a job. Being young and naive, I took his bravado as sincerity. I took him up on his offer, to my father’s chagrin. My father despised my mother’s brother. Before you start thinking it’s only natural he despise all things related to the woman who left him with three young children to join a Sufidom commune  after five years of marriage, it must be understood my father had always disliked my uncle. He simply became more upfront about it as the years grew on and my mother remained out of contact. The following are stories of that summer.


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