My home was broken.
But I was used to it. For years, my parents clumsily taped up the holes with transparent truces, sucked-in offenses and alcoholic avoidance. Still, the anger and disappointment always leaked through, pumping like contaminated air through the vents, infiltrating every aspect of our house.
Their fights played like music in the background of my life. When the end officially came no one was surprised or sad, certainly not me.
My father mov…
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Never believe anything until it has been officially denied. – Claud Cockburn
fcm 2 2015-01-21 10:15:04.63