From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Sight
The sun beats down on my wool cap as I zip up my new jacket, squinting at the headlines about draft boards and exemptions plastered across the corner kiosk. Everything feels lousy and stiff lately, but I still have enough copper hidden in my palm to grab a loaf for six cents and a tin of tobacco. I catch a fleeting snapshot of my reflection in a store window, looking almost old enough to head "Over There" with the rest of the boys if they call my name. For now, I’ll just kick a stone down the dusty street and pretend the world isn't about to change.