For My Father, Every Time Is Wartime
A part of me, the part trained to put my father first, thought I should allow him into my home, regardless of his threats.
Someone always has less
Come visit. I’ve thrown everything you did to me into the river. It’s over.
Prove you trust me
More by this author
More in this series
“Does cursing beget being cursed? Had I brashly yielded a power unchecked, unaware of the consequences?”
A quilt made by my great-grandmother became a life preserver when I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.