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Allow me to introduce you to Kenny:


On the reverse is written: Kenny Age 17 1951

I found this tiny picture in our yard the other day. Who knows how it got there; I like to think no one would throw a family picture away no matter how old. Kenny is likely still alive and maybe even living nearby, although I doubt I would recognize him from this picture.

This picture is challenging the notion that I have some latent ability to write fiction. I mean, it’s a gift. I should write a story about this guy, but I’m coming up blank. Well, not blank exactly, but I remember what it was like to be 17, and it wasn’t a pretty picture.

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