by Erika Chambers

Every day on the way to third grade we passed the huge empty lot on the corner. Every day my friends and I walked cautiously past the tall dry grasses, whispering to each other of ghosts, and of children who were never seen again. On summer days in the west when the sun shone brightly we glimpsed the shimmer of bleached bones in the hot sand, remnants of cattle from distant ranches. It was a short leap in our fertile minds from the bones of cattle to the moans of lost souls. I pass that corner still on my way to the office, bland and secure in my suit and SUV, sipping my coffee and complaining about the traffic that deprives me of an extra three minutes' work time. I miss my childhood ghosts.


Erika Chambers is making her 6S debut.