My Parents Saw My Son And Knew

his face into both hands.

For one ugly second I enjoyed it.

Then I hated myself for enjoying it.

Mom whispered, “Where is it?”

I took the recorder from my bag and set it on the coffee table.

Twenty years of marriage sat on one side of that table. Ten years of my silence sat on the other. In the middle was a machine smaller than a sandwich.

Dad looked up continue reading …