He Kept Explaining My Job Until His Phone Lit Up

out to the driveway, heels clicking like a metronome for a bad mood. Through the front window I watched them argue beside his car under the yellow porch light. She kept pointing back at the house. He kept shaking his head and stabbing at his phone.

He drove off too fast for a street lined with old maples and parked cars.

My father poured himself another continue reading …