Vague memories, glimpses of time lost.  The baby of the family, the 4th and last child.  Grew up in a town of 300 people, my parents had a little grocery store there that was my world as a small child. 

This was a time I treasured, I'm sure, because it was the only time I had my parents to myself..  and a few customers..  This is the time I remember the most attention from my Dad.  I loved hanging with him, back in his office, or in the basement planting plants, listening to Karma Chameleon over and over.  Watching him make hamburger, and butcher cuts of meat.   I dusted cans for my Mom, and bagged groceries, or ran errands to the bank or post office.   A special time in my life...then school came along, and summer breaks.

Summer breaks..  completely free to roam.  I remember having little supervision during the days when my parents worked at the store.  We played until dark.  We got dirty, we had wars with each other.  We formed clubs, built tree houses.  My brother and I fought.  He taught me to run, to hide, to hit back, and to cry.  He taught me to climb up a tree, and down a rope.  He taught me that I could feel his love and protection one day, and have him turn on me the next.  He taught me, as a five or six year old, what it felt like to be scared, and ashamed.  I, and the neighbor boy had kissed, experimented.  Copying something seen on tv I'm sure.   That little bit of info my brother had on me, kept me in his grips, and he used it frequently to get me to do his bidding.  I was just a kid. 

Whoa, shit just got deep huh?????    There is no transition from that last paragraph.   That's the end.   For now.