Roaches. They haunt my first memories. In Lubbock, TX circa age two, my twin sister and I both woke up from bad dreams. We set out to seek comfort. Reaching our parents required a journey across the house.
We knew endless dark bugs waited for us.
Read MoreMy heart pounded.Sweat puddled on my arms. My legs were Jell-O. No, I wasn’t in a horror movie. Close. Spinning class.
I’ll level with you…
Read MoreLeaving a doctor’s appointment, I noticed a police officer walking along behind an emerald bird about six inches tall.
I paused.
I recognized the bird as a Monk parrot. More than a dozen years ago I’d had one as a pet and had read articles about feral colonies of these brilliant-colored birds living in Austin. Was this an escaped pet or the descendant of one who traded its cage for freedom?
“Have you tried to pick it up?” I asked the policeman.
“No, but you’re welcome to give it a shot.”
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