Week Eleven: Massacre Lane, Scarborough

I think we're officially in spring semester of Freshman year now—I need to do a writeup of that like I did for Fall. Soon, okay?!

So this one, I think, was something I observed during either my first or second summer as an ice cream truck driver. (And before you ask—yes. I have tried to write about this experience. A great many times. There's nothing there.) It's an actual street (or "lane"... what is the difference?) in Scarborough, Maine. 

My intent, maybe, was to write a faux history of how it got its name or, more likely, something about how banal suburban life can result in a massacre... of dreams. (I was 19 years old with a penchant for cliché, alright? We all start out this way.)

Maybe I'll begin with some research and see where that takes us...