chicharron crackles
salt and chili on my lips
Concord Tap House meal
About the Creator
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More stories from Tina D. Lopez and writers in Poets and other communities.
December 8, 1980
When I was six or seven, my stepdad came into my life, and I remember thinking he knew everything. He could befriend anybody, anywhere. In grocery stores, he chatted with strangers over cuts of meat; at gas stations, he bonded with people pumping fuel over how the smell of gasoline was disgusting and yet enjoyable. In restaurants, he took an interest in waiters’ lives—like Steve, whose father was dying of cancer. When Steve’s dad died, my new dad attended the funeral.
By Tina D. LopezExclusive • 2 months ago
GRANDMA NELSON
Daddy pulled off the interstate, and I saw the all familiar red barn, and I knew we had arrived at Grandma Nelson's farm. I always had mixed feelings about seeing my Grandmother. It seemed she had as many Grandchildren as the old Mother in the shoe nursery rhyme. I saw her as different, but that is not why I hestiated. The truth be known I always got in trouble at her house, and ended up sitting in the car after I had been scolded.
By Susan Paytona day ago in Fiction
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