I just wrote this story for my upcoming book of non-fiction essays and wanted to share it with you.
Rada's Bloom is about a woman whose bed I shared a long time ago in Vienna. A woman with faded numbers tattooed on her inner forearm and how her memory lives on in my garden in California.
I'd love to know your thoughts about this story so please send them to me via the comment box at the end of the essay.
A story about visiting my son in New Zealand and how he convinced me to hitchhike.
"It is definitely a stretch for me to be standing here beside the tarmac with my roller bag sticking my thumb out. Last hitchhiking experience? Guatemala 17 years ago. People threw rocks at us from the local bus window. Not fond memories."
"Many people exclaim how difficult it must be to have my son living and traveling in countries so far from home for such extended periods but I was a vagabond for years..."
