About two-thirds through the calendar year, the month of August saunters in and hails the transition from carefree, sprawling days of summer’s grassy fields and sandy shores to the madness that is back-to-school season. We’ve all been there.
My fiancé arrives home from a twelve hour shift. He left in the pre-dawn darkness, and has arrived after winter’s dusk.
“Who died?” I ask when I greet him at the door, motioning to the black band across his badge. A thin blue line on the band serves as a marker for his profession.
“The deputy in Leon Country,” he says, leaving his boots by the door. “You didn’t hear?”
“No,” I say. “What happened?”
He tells me about the fire and the ambushed deputies, and I’m reminded of the nickname firefighters have given cops–blue canaries.
As a young child, I was known for being headstrong and stubborn. My mother was not to assist my stubby, inexperienced fingers as I attempted–and frequently failed–to get my frilled socks on […]