Yet, the fire from the barrel bathed her in waves of blistering heat. Its forked spew of flickering yellow and orange light casting away the shadows o... all the figures surrounding her and it. Casting away the sparks and ashes of all she had left to own in this world. There, into that rusted old oil drum, had she deposited the very clothes from her back… right down to her last pair of clean, cotton panties. Mother had ordered it so… just as she had ordered the donation of all the rest of their. Though her schedule was hectic, Dad and I worked around it as best we could. We would go out to parks and play ball. Sometimes, we would have a picnic after, on the grass. There was never a time I felt I was not loved by both.I remembered our old neighbourhood. Tall old trees, with large brick homes lining the streets. Children my own age, and even older, followed my lead no matter what it was. Mom would get me to clean up all the paper, and refuse on the streets. Even when it was under the. More

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