memories

Making a break

I once made a bindle and ran away from home up this road. I don’t remember what awful domestic injustice led to this action, or which cartoon convinced me I needed an actual bandana-tied-to-a-stick bindle to carry my things. I think I was around 6 or 7 and the day was waning but I started the trek up the gravel road next to our old house, toward the hog barn and grain bin, completely unsure…

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