The Haunting Memory of the Beautiful Boy Who Lived at the Motel

I still look for him every day.

Photo by author

The boy is panting, his jacket flung wide open. He does not wear a hat or gloves, but I wear both. He’d burst free from an in-progress Cops and Robbers game in the park. This park is across from the old motel, a tired white building perched on a prime real estate block near the beach. It looks like a…