The More Things Change_Crow Sammiches_Best Friends Forever_Old Ebbets Field
Catalog Guide:
The More Things Change
Ella-How do you know when friends are growing apart? Like the branches of a tree, like the petals of a flower, or like an animal family in the wild. Do you notice it? Does your friend notice it? Or do other people notice it and tell you?Nora-I remember a day on the beach with Ella when we were 8 years old, playing and splashing in the waves. We were the best of friends, the type of girls you could never keep apart no matter how hard you tried. But things have changed between us since then. I don't know if it's that we're growing older, or that we aren't meant to be friends, but maybe it's beca...
Crow Sammiches
This is how Byers’ special Saturday Crow Sammiches works: you start with two fresh slices of white bread.Cousin Kim apparently uses whole wheat bread, but she also gives her kids Ovaltine, so take that for what it’s worth. Anyway, two fresh slices of white, you spread them thick with margarine or butter (whatever’s cheaper, as mom would say). Onto this you squirt classic yellow mustard, and then you sprinkle both sides with sugar. Close the sandwich, cut in triangles. Put on a paper towel, carry it to the back of the yard at dusk, near where the Shubenacadie River flows by, and leave it there....
Best Friends Forever
Trigger warning: physical violence “This view is really breatwww.onedoor.cchtaking.” Nancy spoke from beside her. Rain pelted the large window, but it didn’t obscure the wide view. The wet, rainy, New York before them stood tall, dark buildings stretching up to the gray clouds. Kyra nodded, “Yes, it is.” Kyra took her eyes off of the window for the first time that night, choosing instead to turn back to her best friend. The shadow of the rain reflected over Nancy’s perfectly peachy skin. It cast dark spots over her face, like polka dots. Kyra couldn’t help but think that she still looked beautiful despit...
Old Ebbets Field
You never know what you’ll find when you start Spring cleaning. Knowing full well my sixty-year-old knees will never forgive me, I climb the creaky pull-down attic steps. Every other step, I rub my achy knees. I try to remember the last time I’d ventured up these steps. I cringe at the thought of what I might find. But, believe me, it didn’t disappoint.A series of cobwebs lace the entrance. Two or three spiders scurry away as I wipe away the webs and step up inside. The smell of mold and mildew causes me to gag, then place my hand over my mouth and nose. “Should have worn a mass and g...