May 1, 1968
by Amy
Ours was a beautiful picnic in Grant Park. A day in the sun with no threat from pigs. My wrist throbbed and itched. We smoked some and Bea dropped a tab. We sang Elvis songs. Coleman bought me some pop afterward and we pretended that we were kids again. For a few moments, we were.
Then we went back to my pad and did it with Coleman. What a wonderful day.




