By Tom Brown
They were our neighbours we moved in the same day we were both five years old. There were french drains and gravel roads and a blackout with each thunderstorm. On that day we made friends we played on the sand heaps by the road and he stole my little blue matchbox car with the little doors broken off. He denies this up until today.
On the first day of school I was crying like mad going into the classroom and he was joyfully waving for me to sit by him. I understood the work but he didn’t realize that this was a twelve year sentence. When you are six twelve years sounds like a lot of time.