“I was drafted into the war when I was 18. You never think you’re young when you’re that age, but to give you a real idea: I’d never kissed a girl. The only weapon I’d touched was a sling shot. On the weekends, I went out to the woods to hand roll cigarettes with my two best friends, but we couldn’t even smoke a whole one. Instead, we’d pass it around like a joint so that we didn’t have to inhale as much.”
John’s voice is officially my bedtime story. I curl myself up, turn off the JitterBug and start one chapter in my book before I hear him.
“18 years is young for anyone.” When I was 18, I was too busy hiding my first pregnancy behind baggy dresses to think about anything other than my future. It’s funny how you can’t see the past before the future’s behind…
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