THE VIEW FROM
THE FOLDING CHAIRS
by Michala Miller
I squeezed on the wad of tinfoil in my pocket. It represented weeks of reclaiming bits and pieces of
shiny foil from gum wrappers, jar lids and trash piles. Into the grocery store I went, and there, on the counter next to the cash register, was a
gallon-sized, glass pickle jar half full of tin-foil. I proudly opened the lid and added my silvery contribution.
Though far from the shooting,
far from the military bases, and far from the war factories, I wasn't far from the war. In 1939, when I was five years old, a dark shroud cloaked the
world. It was not cast aside until August of 1945.
By this Author's book at Off the
beaten Path's Online bookstore.
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