Sarah’s emerald
blue tear-filled eyes glistened in the dark as her grandma narrated the sketchy
remains of her memories from her childhood.
Dad arrived home well past midnight. Asleep, dreaming and awake at the same
time, I felt dad kicking our front door open as mum’s tired eyes struggled to stay awake waiting for him. He
was piss drunk. Nothing unusual about it. He was hungry, angry and fuming as he
slammed the alarm clock across mum’s face.
I quivered and rolled into a ball, tightly shutting my eyes and ears, praying
and hoping that my dream would out shadow my wakefulness. A smashed plate and a screaming wail tailed off as I lost myself in an impossible reverie.
Adam was the sweetest thing. His delightful looks. The
Sunday roasts and breakfasts in bed. The silly post-it notes on the fridge. The
contagious laughs. And. The smile.
Sarah smiled back.
The men folk will pay for the man’s deeds.
No comments:
Post a Comment