By Robert Witmer
Tokyo, Japan
The Cuban Missile Crisis. I was in grade school and we had drills. The same loud alarm as a fire drill, but a different experience altogether. Instead of walking single file out to the playground, joking around with your friends, we had to sit against a wall in a dark corridor hugging our knees to our hearts. Dead silence was expected. But sometimes we whispered. Kid stuff.
spring rain
children holding umbrellas
upside down
(First published in Presence, Issue #81, March 2025.)