Watermelon
                
                                    I cut into the watermelon, and I want to go back so bad. Back to the days when summer was hot but not brutal, when happiness drove me. When I swagged into the kitchen at my grandmother’s house, thumped a watermelon onto the Formica counter, and cracked a sharp knife through the rind. 
It was the summer after my second year of law...                
                
            
        
        
                
        
        
        
    
