Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • His name was Danny Walsh and I fell in love with the outfit he wore to school every Thursday. In second grade, love is a new and strange thing. Danny had dark hair, brown eyes, and every Thursday he wore brown pants and a brown tunic with a picture of a teepee and a bow-n- arrow on it. I thought he was magnificent! Never mind that he barely spoke to me the entire school year. I was in L.O.V.E.

    Our school was private and Catholic and no one was allowed to wear denim. Only hippies wore denim. There was something about Danny's Thursday outfit that was faintly hippie-ish; maybe it was the cut of the tunic, falling halfway down his thighs. I don't know if he ever noticed me gazing lovingly at him during silent reading. I imagined him voluntarily sitting next to me at lunch. Or following me into the pew and spending an entire Sunday mass holding the other half of the missal. Or coming into my Dad's restaurant on a Saturday afternoon and eating dinner with his family while I played pinball in the arcade with my sister. Sooner or later Danny would want to play pinball, too.

Better browser, please.

To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.