We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn’t really hurt anyone. We’ll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people in the commune for all the cocaine and ecstasy we want. In the meantime, we’ll pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so that Stacy can get better. She sure deserves it!
STRIKE AGAINST WAR: The little girl in this photograph is Ruby Crane. From the age of 3-years-old Ruby walked blind soldiers around a rehabilitation center called St Dunstan’s at Brighton in Sussex. Ruby’s Father was the head gardener. She knew they were blind and had recently returned from […]
Michael Walsh Stories and Books 
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