Part Time

                I heard a Hootie and the Blowfish song, "Hold my Hand,"  on the radio the other day and I was immediately taken back to my high school job at the mall.  It was my junior year, and I was working at J. Riggings, a tiny little men's clothing store.  It was in a corner … Continue reading Part Time


                My Dad arrived in Viet Nam on his 21st birthday.  He didn't share much more than that when my brother and I were kids.  He'd brought a few souvenirs back with him, some tall black wooden vases with etchings on them, and he'd told us a little about where he got them.  He … Continue reading Reflections