True Stories

Work from my ongoing childhood memoir project.

SLACKS

I’m not exactly sure why I can’t look into his face. Partly I am still hurt and a little angry because he has pulled away from me. Partly I am ashamed about wrecking the dashboard and radio in his new van. But mostly I am just dreading school clothes shopping with Dad: He stands before me wearing a tan parka over his suit and tie. The parka is made from some sort of synthetic fabric so that whenever he moves, it makes loud swishing noises. Read more…

I AM NOT YOUR BROOM

Chest hammering, I decide I don’t have to take it anymore. Reaching forward, I snap the TV on and settle back into the love seat. I try to look relaxed, but my body is on high alert. Mom comes to the door and looks at me incredulously, her hands on her hips.

I don’t look into her eyes or smile. My best bet is to pretend she didn’t realize I was watching, that her turning the TV off was some sort of accident. Read more…

SAVE THE CHILDREN

Looking out the window, I pretend what Dad is saying doesn’t even matter to me, but I am listening carefully to every word he says. The wind rushing in the window makes a loud noise. I wait quietly for a few minutes. When I finally speak, my voice sounds creaky and dry. Read more…

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