Written by Christopher Van Dyke – “I was gonna scare you but then had to break you up.” Our father said this as if we had missed some big treat. “What were you two fighting about” he questioned as we passed between the shrubs, high stepping through the tall grass.Continue Reading
Written by Christopher Van Dyke – “I think he left us,” I said, hopping from foot to foot. The wind curled around our legs and lifted the hood of my younger brother’s jacket, flapping it about like a flaccid appendage. “Naw,” said Todd without so much as turning my way,Continue Reading
Written by Christopher Van Dyke – The first swing I remember my father putting up was inside an old brick building he owned on the main street of the small town I grew up in. If you took that building and split it up, the bottom front quarter of it,Continue Reading
