story

Four years old. I don’t know exactly who got me into first grade, but it must have been my grandpa, because my parents were fighting and it sounded like this: “Tell her!” “I’m not going to tell her!  You tell her!” “I ain’t tellin’ her teacher, shit!” my father said, putting his foot down. “Well, […]

Four years old I was sitting on the floor with my back against the wall, silently raging.  I didn’t know anything about, God, but if I would have, I’d have filed a complaint, for sure!  What’s wrong with these people?   If I was my sister, I would read me a book, see? If I was