Suppose you discover in your 60th year that your father was a molester, had been molested himself. By his father. Suppose you discover that your grandfather, whom you never knew, was not only a molester but most likely had been molested too. By his adopted father. Suppose you learn all this over conversation with your cousin whom you barely knew growing up, being 19 years older than you. Suppose he asks you if your father had ever hurt you, as you sit at his kitchen table drinking coffee looking out over DC at the sunset-lit horizon through leafless trees. A city with all its history that you love so much.… Continue Reading
“That’s the problem with your school,” the father went on. “You show up every day to learn things you won’t need until you’re in college, then you learn things in college you won’t need until you get a job. That’s why we’re here. That, and my back problems of course.”… Continue Reading
They sometimes had pets, sometimes did not. Sometimes had children, sometimes did not. They sometimes loved each other, sometimes did not. And they lived that way for a long time.… Continue Reading
She said she knew that God existed because she knew that the enemies of God existed.… Continue Reading
He didn’t feel like he had aged well at all. His baggy shirt might hide the spare tire around his middle, but then there were the blemished parts that were harder to disguise, like the deep furrows across his forehead, the laughter lines about the mouth, and crow crags at the corners of his eyes. A little wart had also suddenly revealed itself in place of a beauty spot. Today, he felt like a hoary old man.… Continue Reading
He wants the game but also doesn’t. He imagines slamming it into the trash bin under the sink or cracking it against the side of the house, breaking it into a hundred jagged pieces, orange casing, grey screen, the soundtrack whirring tick tick tick. He is also sure all his friends at school will crow and squawk in a huddle when he shows them. They’ll crowd around him at lunch time, in recess and they’ll watch mesmerized as Mario climbs and Kong hurls and Pauline cowers in the corner.… Continue Reading
Here’s the thing—the clown isn’t laughing. He’s just sitting there on his stool in the center of the tent, sharpening his banana into a knife. This is after twisting together a balloon elephant and making my sister cry, popping it with a pin hidden between his teeth.… Continue Reading
Nudging 40, disturbingly gray, I’m vexed and disappointed that after weeks of webs and skeletons, Mill Valley is a ghost town.… Continue Reading
When Lester Hardin stood before the judge he had just turned twenty-three years old. His hair was greasy, cut and trimmed low across the top of his crown with long knotted strands straddling down his collar. … Continue Reading
For the briefest moment, absolute fear welled up in António and threatened to engulf him.… Continue Reading