Two Separate Paths

R. Brady FrostCommentary, Writing Process1 Comment

A small image of a trolley streetcar.

It was early 1995 and I was fourteen years old. I can almost remember the way the crisp spring air smelled. The snow on the mountains was beginning to creep back toward the white-capped peaks, revealing new patches of green on the mountainside. Life was fresh and new and filled with possibilities.