by Kirby Wright
My father had decided on the Young Hotel because of Gramma’s weakness for sweets. The hotel boasted the best bakery on Oahu. He also figured she had a nostalgic interest in that hotel because she’d jitterbugged with Alan Ladd in its ballroom. Despite the bakery and the memories, Gramma was leery about sleeping alone in a city she considered the crime center of the Pacific. She never ventured out by herself. One night a drunk sailor banged on her door and begged “Lucky Linda” to come out. Gramma buzzed room service and ordered a butcher knife.
- Lemon Shark Press, July 2012
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