Boys will be boys will be men.

We could see the world from there, our perch at the edge of everything. The earth indeed curved, and the river below bent toward a destiny we could not fathom, its surface twinkling like a million stars in that summer sun.

We waited like Sirens for our future wives and mothers of children to drift by. A smile and a wave and maybe a “Meet you at the diner at 5:30!” No apple pie would have tasted as lovely as the one we’d share, she and I. But we never saw canoes in the distance, they never slowed down. (We would have waved first, I’m sure).

Fo(u)nd Memories is now a published short story collection! To read the full story, order a copy here.