Tag Archives: Europe

Refugee

A sign reads “Willkommen in Deutschland.”

The woman’s pale face shines a brilliant smile, her head disorientingly uncovered. I understand nothing she says. I am spellbound by her light voice spilling hard sounds like a fountain crashing across stone. Nodding, she hands me a small bundle. My hand clutches my ragdoll tighter, while the other pulls on father’s pants. Continue reading Refugee

Breakfast at the Diner

There really wasn’t much opportunity for a woman in those days. I left my apartment and rode the N train downtown to my secretarial job each morning, rain or shine. The work was typically dull. They didn’t trust a woman with anything much beyond typing, filing, and getting coffee. And running to the cleaners, can’t forget that one. Continue reading Breakfast at the Diner