Thanksgiving Weekend 2012
Thanksgiving Day, November 22nd
Another wave of sickness strikes. I’m on my knees over the master bath toilet. Orange-and-brown bile fills water and stains the porcelain rim, along with the painted walls and freshly-washed tile.
Blackness. A slow awakening, questions. How did I get here? Why did I wake up in Dad’s bed?
All I know for sure is the sickness. And the company I’ve abandoned.
covering the yard
Grass has grown full and green over Dad’s grave. The monument looks as new as the first day I saw it last summer.
Mom, Rob and I stare in silence. It’s her anniversary — the first without him. She hasn’t shed a tear today —yet.
Interstate traffic noise
more by FRANK J. TASSONE
photograph by Annie Spratt
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