I was four years old when I learned cruelty. It was late Easter morning, and my younger sister and I were playing under the bright desert sky in my grandparent's backyard. We had already gone to church, candy-filled Easter baskets had been presented, and brightly painted eggs had been hidden and discovered. Still dressed in our Sunday best, my sister and I had been sent outside to play while the adults took care of whatever grown-ups did.
019 — Butterflies and shovels
019 — Butterflies and shovels
019 — Butterflies and shovels
I was four years old when I learned cruelty. It was late Easter morning, and my younger sister and I were playing under the bright desert sky in my grandparent's backyard. We had already gone to church, candy-filled Easter baskets had been presented, and brightly painted eggs had been hidden and discovered. Still dressed in our Sunday best, my sister and I had been sent outside to play while the adults took care of whatever grown-ups did.