i've taken on another student. he lives in the bronx, is named dennis, and is terribly bright. i take the 5 train to east 180th street and walk a few blocks to his house. on my way i pass by an old cemetary which a sign says contains the graves of veterans of 4 wars, starting as far back as 1812.
so i stand there and marvel a bit at the green lawn, unkempt and ramshackle mosoleums. as i grip the locked gate, i look down to my feet where a plate of rice and fish sits, uneaten but decaying, like it's been there for weeks. the rice is black, the fish mummified. i wretch a bit and an old man walks next to me and sees how i react to this food that someone seems to have placed there as an offering.
"voo-doo," he whispers and walks on.
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2 comments:
That's a good story.!
when and what war was the first one you think?
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