The Grapes of Meth

Before California, my mom and I lived in a trailer. We weren’t trailer trash. To be considered trailer trash you need a double-wide that rests on cinder blocks in a trailer park.  We didn’t participate in opulence.  We had one of those small, oval, hitch trailers that looks like a giant snail stopping to catch… Continue reading The Grapes of Meth

Ryan’s Mom Smiles

Ryan’s mom smiles as she drives us to school; blond, energetic, and crazy-faced. It could be a normal, pretty, mom-face, but when it smiles it ages and goes bonkers.  The mouth opens and exposes her small white teeth and her wet tongue. What it does to her eyes, though, is fascinating.  They get wide and… Continue reading Ryan’s Mom Smiles