Only the Scared Survive by Vincent Alonzo

I was six years old. She was somewhere between 65 and dead. She wore a coal black, floor-length dress that had an imposing hoopskirt with pleats that quivered like tentacles when she walked. A black bonnet encased her head, tied severely with a black ribbon under her chin. This was a true Bride of Christ from the old school.

Click here to read full article.