“Living a Life in Cars” appearing in the 2020 issue of Oyster River Pages

I am eight and experiencing the first of many traumas in my father’s old Pontiac. In a family night trip to visit relatives at Christmas, Dad slams into a deer, throwing my sister and me to the floor in back, leaving us bruised and frightened.  The second trauma months later is more serious. Again in my father’s Pontiac, this time returning from an autumn foliage excursion, Mom implies my father is failing as a beer salesman. She starts the argument by saying she’s having trouble paying the bills …


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