They sat on a park bench in Managua, like bookends. Twenty-five and seventy-five, American and Nicaraguan, talking the afternoon away.
Mostly he talked. He was a former Contra who had fled when the war came to the U.S. and raised two children there. Then, when peace returned, he came back to Nicaragua and won a seat in congress. Now he's retired and sits on park benches.
She, the Peace Corps volunteer , having the time of her life, playing on a girl's soccer team with small town Nicaraguan girls, teaching English in the high school, just listened.
He told her she would get more conservative as she got older.
Mostly she's just getting wiser.
Mostly he talked. He was a former Contra who had fled when the war came to the U.S. and raised two children there. Then, when peace returned, he came back to Nicaragua and won a seat in congress. Now he's retired and sits on park benches.
She, the Peace Corps volunteer , having the time of her life, playing on a girl's soccer team with small town Nicaraguan girls, teaching English in the high school, just listened.
He told her she would get more conservative as she got older.
Mostly she's just getting wiser.
lily:
nah babe, its under Lily suicide