His rigidity raised an iron wall between me and my sister. We have never met since he forced me to leave.
She takes me to the room where his open casket fills the room. The nauseating scent of lilies is heavy and laden with self-righteous anger. We both endured his eruptions… only I escaped.
Did he ever cease tearing up newspapers or yell at the TV? I’m not crying but still, take my sister’s hand as we look at him.
Through the wrong end of the long telescope of time he has shrunken to a frail little man; withered into a husk of my monster.
‘He asked for you daily since you left’
‘But he never bothered to call’
‘I’m sorry Sis… but I couldn’t… I can’t’
Finally parted with childhood I leave her alone, content that he cannot hurt her… or me.
Today we write prosery at dVerse, Kim hosts and she wants us to include the line
We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time
from the poem ‘Humming Bird’ by D.H. Lawrence. Prose should be maximum 144 words in total.
October 12, 2020