FUSION Magazine

Disturbed

by S. Kean Cattaneo

The battered gray mailbox at the end of our cul de sac used to read  “400″ in red letters before some neighborhood kid (who wasn’t me) stole the four and probably hung it in his bedroom next to a Red Sox poster.  The red zeros they left behind looked like two eyes.  During the summer, when waves of heat made the asphalt blurry, they almost blinked at you if you squinted real hard. Read more »