secretsidewalk.blogspot.com
Secret Sidewalk: Secret Sidewalk
http://secretsidewalk.blogspot.com/2009/02/secret-sidewalk.html
Friday, February 27, 2009. When Marcus was eleven, and his little brother Ben was only six, they lived on a boat in the harbor with their mother, a hard-working grocery store clerk named Kristen Holmes. Sometimes Ben had trouble sleeping at night, and he would climb to the upper bunk and jab his brother in the ribs until he woke him up. Marcus would open one eye, and then the other, and eventually say,. Nobody ever walked on this sidewalk. No one except for the boys. Only they knew why it was sec...He sh...
secretsidewalk.blogspot.com
Secret Sidewalk: February 2009
http://secretsidewalk.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html
Friday, February 27, 2009. When Marcus was eleven, and his little brother Ben was only six, they lived on a boat in the harbor with their mother, a hard-working grocery store clerk named Kristen Holmes. Sometimes Ben had trouble sleeping at night, and he would climb to the upper bunk and jab his brother in the ribs until he woke him up. Marcus would open one eye, and then the other, and eventually say,. Nobody ever walked on this sidewalk. No one except for the boys. Only they knew why it was sec...He sh...
hiddenhighway.blogspot.com
Hidden Highway: February 2009
http://hiddenhighway.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html
Friday, February 27, 2009. Josefa was a fan of silence at night. She would have preferred no music at all. The old woman came and went throughout the evening, always busy with a chore, never stopping to rest. In any ways, the motel was her own. Although she only worked there, she knew everything about it. The little buildings were like her children; untidy, wild and in need of constant maintenance. Hadn't she seen a lot in her time? Of course' said Roland, 'the work comes first, and then? Josefa wanted t...
hiddenhighway.blogspot.com
Hidden Highway: Hidden Highway
http://hiddenhighway.blogspot.com/2009/02/hidden-highway.html
Friday, February 27, 2009. Josefa was a fan of silence at night. She would have preferred no music at all. The old woman came and went throughout the evening, always busy with a chore, never stopping to rest. In any ways, the motel was her own. Although she only worked there, she knew everything about it. The little buildings were like her children; untidy, wild and in need of constant maintenance. Hadn't she seen a lot in her time? Of course' said Roland, 'the work comes first, and then? Josefa wanted t...
