My Nightmare in Georgia
“Based on a True Story”
It was the summer of 1990, and the cicadas were making themselves known. All the outdoors sounded like electricity, even though our house was located in a small town. We had crummy TV reception because mom was a single mom and really couldn’t afford cable, so the only way I could sit and stare like an idiot was to squat on the chipped paint of the front porch and pass my eyes over the cornfields across the street and listen to the cicadas. That’s what I usually did when I wanted to wonder and lose myself in a mental coma. That day I was wondering, whether he would show up.