Monday, June 25, 2012

Where I am Born


My birth certificate says Norfolk General Hospital but that ain't it, not in the sense of where my story begins.

I was born in a dank den, sitting at a stained writing desk, a pipe tobacco in the left drawer, red shag carpet underfoot.  It was 1978 and I was alone.  My parents were at work and my older sister had made friends.  I was born buck-toothed and fat with frizzy hair, wearing a T-Shirt that said "Bug Off."  Of course, there was a lady bug on the shirt.

I was born writing, imagining, rhyming, making up friends and other worlds to inhabit.  I was born without parental supervision.  Everybody had to work.  I was born baking brownies, measuring sugar, cracking eggs.  I didn't know anybody.  There was a willow tree in the front yard where I liked to hide and make up adventures.  There was a steep hill where I tended to fall down.

I didn't like being alone. be continued