Time flows like a never-ending River. Sweeping aside all our joys, sorrows, and dreams like so many helpless leaves in a torrent.
The happy laughter of the small is subtly replaced with the concerns of the adult, and far too soon, the feebleness of the aged.
So quickly it goes by… we can hardly even notice its passing.
But deep within us, far below the wear and the wrinkles …
The child still exists.
"In those days, the rocks were legion. Hitting the underside and spraying behind the big sedan like a speedboat’s wake.
On either side of the road, sugar cane waved and undulated in the tepid breeze. Here and there in the green fuzz
the dark images of field workers also sped by. I pressed my nose against the window leaving a greasy spot. The trip to my grandmother’s
was great adventure. There was so much to see and do. To the very young, at least in that far-away time, the world and everything in it was fresh and new.
I embraced the openness of the country. It was Spartan, even when compared to the life of a poor inner-city child.
It was hot and dusty, fragrant and putrid, a vast rural panorama that served as a backdrop for high adventure tinged with unknown dangers..."
AGAINST THE FLOOD