by K.C. Lichty
Her mother was full of big ideas. I’m going to join the Merchant Marines, she said, travel the world, she said, sail up the Amazon or the Volta or the Niger and pick cocoa beans right off the tree, make you the freshest, freshest hot cocoa in the world, she said. Instead, it was living with Tom in a gardeners shack behind a great white Plantation house overlooking the Potomac, a retired Merchant Marine, his comb-over sagging after his bath, naked beneath his towel watching from the doorway of the daughter’s bedroom. We’re Continue reading
Hawaii Pacific Review 