My Fading Accent
This December, a week before Christmas vacation, I flew to Philly alone. As often happens during my trips north, I thought of my friend “The Kid,” Chris Poulos. I had been out of touch with The Kid. There was no falling out; we drifted apart as people do when they grow families, when they move, when their lives get more and more complicated. Every time I went home to Philly, I would always think of him. My family was big and spread out all over the region, and all the family visits demanded all our time. I would never get a chance … Read More…
