Scene One – REAL MAN – Mequon, Wisconsin, April 1960
Strings screech, hum, and sing with never intended song. Gold and black-varnished maple, the color of sunlight in our windowless garage attic breaks over Dad’s knee. Splinters, like dead autumn leaves, drop to the floor.
About the Author
I write personal essays, creative non-fiction, flash fiction, and self-development articles from my home in Madison, Wisconsin.