I stood on the corner of Pardoras Box & Garden of Eden. I watched a white van approach me, camera in hand I was ready to snap and hold for future use to show that these type of vans I see often.
I did not take the picture. I would have yesterday, but not today.
I walked onto a trail in a wooded area.
Earlier today I drove past a sign that read the president lost. I thought about that with my time spent in the woods. How, so many families lost their homes. I will write a short story about a family, I said. The tale of two cities came to mind. I was reminded how important it was to keep trying after I stumbled upon this:
Front (Title) The Separation Tank
I learned in college that most stories exist here to make you cry.
The Separation Tank
Mom fried some chicken lastnight, it was delicious. Dad, my older sister, baby brother and I all ate together.
Mom loves to wear these shoes. She is beautiful.
I am called, “Baby Girl” or ” Daddy’s Girl”. People joke about getting me milk, a pacifier.
My brother always walks around, hugging his friend.
Dad said for us to go outside because he had to wash all of our clothes. So, we went to play until it got dark.
Dad is silly, he even washed our shoes.
We heard mom scold dad again. Dad was drinking. He said he had a long day at work.
It was time to go inside. We picked up our toys and went inside the house.
Dad said stuff we did not understand. He said that the new president was terrible, and that he had to think of something for us because some times bad things happen.
He said baby girl, sometimes, people do not want to be indians.
Mom cried. We went upstairs. All of us showered before bed.