Meet Me at the Arbor

By Jane Patrick Walls

General fiction | Paperback, eBook

Tamara gulped a few times fighting back tears as she remembered each detail. She continued shuddering, "I was led by two people. I could smell aftershave but they didn't speak. A hoarse voice finally said 'watch your step going down ten.' I was kept from falling by them but I remember the smell of dirt, musky dampness, grime and smoke. I was forced on a bench and they handcuffed my arms to something on each side. I was lying in the darkness as the hood still covered my head."

Meet Me at the Arbor is dedicated to my grandmother, Letha Hill McCray. Her first name I later learned was Eletha. My grandmother raised her three daughters and four sons after the death of my grandfather, Robert Burris McCray, in 1916 when my mother was twelve.



Just now

Make your presence felt. Be the first to post!

    1463861044 social-instagram-new-square1 Io6eZONw-01 Add to footer
Sitemap | Terms & Conditions
Privacy & Data

© 2020 iAuthor Ltd
Design: Splash | Web: MWW
 BAI logo smaller