I Came Home From Overseas Expecting to See My 1969 Corvette Waiting

softly in the breeze.

Everything looked exactly the way it was supposed to look.

Except for the place where my dream should have been.

No gleam of chrome. No rally-red shimmer catching the sunlight from the far end of the bay. No low, muscular silhouette that I had carried in my head since I was twelve years old and my grandfather first showed me a picture continue reading …