Two Worlds
by Laura Harmon
Emma's stomach twisted unpleasantly as her mom's 15-year-old Ford rolled
to a stop in front of the first-and most dilapidated-trailer in the park. It was
the second week in May, and though the previous winter had been long and
harsh, this year's had been short and mild, warm weather having hit midApril. As a result, the grass and weeds surrounding the trailer had already
begun to spring up, and, not surprisingly, no one had bothered to do
anything about it. Emma glanced down the long line of trailers beyond.
While none of them were perfect, it looked like the vast majority of the
park's residents liked to get through their front doors without being attacked
by undergrowth. Trailer trash or not, it seemed like some folks liked to keep
some dignity about them.
"Happy to be home?" Emma's mom said cheerfully from the driver's seat.
She was a plump woman in her mid-fifties with dyed hair and a few too
many layers of make-up. She reeked of cigarettes and the annoying ability to
ignore the obvious. Emma barely glanced at her mother in response before
opening the car door and stepping out, an early evening chill catching her
and making her bare shoulders shiver.