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Weekly Contest #347
My grandmother did everything with a cigarette in one hand, a gin and Coke in the other, and a ready joke on her lips (often a crude one). In the end she couldn't pretend her way into heaven. She needed help…God's help. But Georgene wasn't one to ask for help. Not when she was having to pick up her passed out, alcoholic husband from the lawn each morning. Not when she suffered abuse in her first marriage. And never when times were tough. Her strategy was to laugh. Drink a little more. Put on a smile that pretended everything was fine. She w...
Daddy. I clutch the back seat, staring out our minivan’s rear window. Thick dust clouds block my view as Mom speeds away. Dad, I correct myself. That’s what fifth-graders say. Even if he calls me Daddy's little girl. Swiping the back of my hand across my eyes, I search for him. His white t-shirt and blue jeans are barely visible. His blonde hair, the same camel-blonde as mine, has faded into the plumes of dirt. I won’t turn around until we’ve taken too many turns for me to ever find my way back. Not that it matters, because he won’t be the...
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