First Run

I was an only child my 15th summer—my brother away acting, one sister abroad, another home but waiting tables, dating, college-bound. Mom, in grad school, flew to Europe for research and a Greek cruise. Trifold aerogrammes arrived crinkling lonely freedom. Dad and I, strangers, stood in line for Star Wars; Annie Hall; New York, New York.

The previous summer, I’d wet my bed one last time. Now men in the background of my sister’s Glamours fated my dreams. One thick night, I donned Keds and ran a lap around our suburban block. A block, but long. My return breathless.

Photo Credit: Bill Lane

3 Responses to “First Run”

1. Julie Mitchell says:

   May 31, 2019 at 4:32 pm

   Way to put in a strong beginning, middle, and end! That truly is a 100 word story.

   Reply
   • Bill O'Sullivan says:

     July 26, 2019 at 2:04 am

     Thank you!

     Reply
2. Richard Washer says:

   April 20, 2019 at 12:59 pm

   Congratulations, So compressed, it’s poetic. Richard

   Reply