The kids on the bus were relentless; their tyrant leader lived in our trailer park and was a few years older than me. He ruled with the iron fist of a seasoned bully. I feared those bus rides home, so I snuck onto the bus that dropped me off at my grandmother’s house.
What memories. I also have fond memories of my grandparents. Good read. Thanks for sharing from your heart. Love reading all of your stories!
Thank you Rick!