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Weekly Contest #45
I sat by my window and watched. At first it reminded me of a curious parade, like the ones my parents would take me to in the dusty down town corridor of a tiny Oklahoma town I used to call home. Some were marching, many had signs. Some were riding in the back of pick up trucks or on the hoods of Civics and Chevrolets. Most were shouting and chanting. I estimated the average age to be in the low 20’s. The energy exuding from their every pore was indeed remarkable. I felt their pain, of course. What happened was tragic. “PeePa, ar...
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