Runaway rubbernecking

I ran away from home when I was 10.

(I should probably mention at this point that I was, and am, the middle child.)

It was a Saturday afternoon in late 1988, one of those days where my parents and sisters seemed connected in a way I couldn’t fathom, or didn’t want to, like they were a hermetically-sealed foursome and I was the fifth wheel. Imagine Ace of Base with a cowbell player. That was how odd-man-out I felt.

images-118

2 of them were white supremacists. Can you guess???

2 of them were white supremacists. Can you guess???

Continue reading