Summertime (section) - Acrylic on Canvas - by © diane green 2005
Chapter 7
Afternoon Chicago weekdays drifted by cool, sunny and clear in early March 1998, waiting for the wrath of Spring winds blowing through the city like leftover cluster bombs in Vietnam.
“Nice day, isn’t it?” Abby strums the Harmony guitar in solitude. Memories of old songs she sang, and especially the ones she didn’t, shimmied through her head under an old streetlight. There was a knock at the door.
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