“Emeryville”


John remembers the ways of the Ohlone as he digs for oyster along the shore at Emeryville.  Near his dead father’s old fishing shack stood Shellmound Park; a midden of many lifetimes.  A mountain of crusty mollusk fused together rose 60 feet above San Francisco Bay with a dance pavilion atop its summit.  The dance and the park died with the passage of prohibition in the 1920’s.

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2 Comments on ““Emeryville””

  1. susanwritesprecise
    February 11, 2015 at 11:16 pm #

    What a thoughtful and interesting piece. A most enjoyable read. Nicely done!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Suzanne
    February 15, 2015 at 2:52 pm #

    Love the nostalgia in this. Great take on the prompt! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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Rantings Of A Third Kind

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