Government Cheese
The morning is cold and gray as I trot down the hill from our front door to my grampa’s old truck that my dad is using. The ground is hard as a rock. When I climb into the truck to wait for my dad I see my footprints melted into the frost spaced wide from my running, the grass dark and frozen and exposed.
http://readingismyspiritanimal.com/2024/10/02/government-cheese/