"Daddy"

The familiar creek of the door. and then the slam. I hear the jingling of the keys and the scattered footsteps and I know who it is. We pretend like its okay. That nothing is going on we pretend not to notice. It’s the same old song. He struggles to walk like a toddler on his first steps. His words slur and his speech makes no sense. He is an infant, a toddler, a child. but no he is a man. a sorry excuse for one. He’s called into the kitchen. We know the routine. He denies what is obvious to even the youngest of the house. She cries and he screams. We cry and she screams. We hover together under the kitchen table as he runs to the backyard hes screaming and cursing were crying and hiding. glass everywhere. He’s thrown the backyard table. oh how symbolic it now seems. destroying something that would bring us all together. And we’d be sent up to bed. everyone would sleep and in the morning no one said anything. The familiar creek of the door The jingling of keys. We’d run and hug Daddy.