I Was Uninvited From Christmas by the Man Living in My House

all three.

Then he walked to the back door and I followed him onto the patio.

December in Phoenix lets people pretend winter is a suggestion. The air was cool enough for a jacket, dry enough to crack the skin on your knuckles.

Michael stood by the rusted chiminea our father bought in 1998.

“What do you want, David.”

“The truth would be nice.”

He barked out continue reading …