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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2020
Weekly Contest #70
He never visited me once. Eight years. How was I supposed to know he wasn’t even alive? The smell of the house was different. I had missed the funeral by three years. My father spent them in the ground, while I was getting pummeled to carpeted floors. I got to visit the grave the night I got back. It wasn’t even that dark, and the grave seemed to glisten in the pale sunset. I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t live in that house, or go back to that school. Walking into that living room was a constant reminder that I was the stranger. I was...
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