At some point in his life Charles lost most of the fingers on one hand in a hunting accident. He only had a thumb and pinkie on that hand, and I no longer remember whether it was the left or right hand. What I DO remember was how he could pinch the fire out of you (and WOULD every chance he got) with that hand!
My cousin Charles was a wild one and had more than his share of trouble in life, but nonetheless I always enjoyed seeing him drive up (even though I could expect a hard pinch or two). I was truly fond of him, and I miss him very much.
Once after he had died, someone read to me a piece of prose or maybe poetry that Charles had written. I no longer recall the piece, I just recall being stunned at how good it was!
Clearly there was more to Charles than what met the eye.
My cousin Charles was a wild one and had more than his share of trouble in life, but nonetheless I always enjoyed seeing him drive up (even though I could expect a hard pinch or two). I was truly fond of him, and I miss him very much.
Once after he had died, someone read to me a piece of prose or maybe poetry that Charles had written. I no longer recall the piece, I just recall being stunned at how good it was!
Clearly there was more to Charles than what met the eye.
At some point in his life Charles lost most of the fingers on one hand in a hunting accident. He only had a thumb and pinkie on that hand, and I no longer remember whether it was the left or right hand. What I DO remember was how he could pinch the fire out of you (and WOULD every chance he got) with that hand!
My cousin Charles was a wild one and had more than his share of trouble in life, but nonetheless I always enjoyed seeing him drive up (even though I could expect a hard pinch or two). I was truly fond of him, and I miss him very much.
Once after he had died, someone read to me a piece of prose or maybe poetry that Charles had written. I no longer recall the piece, I just recall being stunned at how good it was!
Clearly there was more to Charles than what met the eye.
My cousin Charles was a wild one and had more than his share of trouble in life, but nonetheless I always enjoyed seeing him drive up (even though I could expect a hard pinch or two). I was truly fond of him, and I miss him very much.
Once after he had died, someone read to me a piece of prose or maybe poetry that Charles had written. I no longer recall the piece, I just recall being stunned at how good it was!
Clearly there was more to Charles than what met the eye.
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