October 28, 2018 Solitary Today is the day he loses his daughter. He could tell by the silence—stronger than usual and more prominent—and the quiet packing in her room she conducted that morning, trying to be as invisible as possible. He has no idea why she would decide to leave. He has given her everything, in his eyes, and she just refuses to see it.
October 24, 2018 Clean Slate I stepped around the folded red blankets that hung over the tan couch and took a seat across from my father on the other side of room. He sat upright in the tan chair, paging through a copy of Forbes magazine. His eyes didn’t acknowledge my presence. I cleared my throat.
