Paper Scraps: Some things are just cinnamon
Isabelle’s column “Paper Scraps” explores the way memories come in pieces and how we put them together. When my father plays the Entertainer, he looks like a little boy. It’s the only thing he knows how to play. I was the sort of child who was always cold and always in the ocean. He tossed me in to see if I would float and I did. We swam while Hurricane Earl was clinging to the horizon.