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Showing posts from June 28, 2020

How Estranged Are They?

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Phone camera shots of blurry photographs, in an album I’m not allowed to see. That’s all I have. Josephine is a saint for doing so. I don’t even have a baby photo, though since my son’s birth I pleaded. I barely remember what I looked like as a baby, and I’d love to see the similarities in us. I want to show him. The last I heard a brother, the same who refused to go on Dr. Phil, destroyed all photographs of me, infant ones included. I have a small file on my computer that I’ll be sharing with you, until they run out.
My sister understands pain that my brothers and father wouldn’t; the sexism of a cult she hasn’t seen through yet. She was never dubbed Slut or Dogmeat as she didn’t wear foundation but she suffered, her voice unheard. I’m ever so glad that she’s forgiven me for my anger, my nasty teenage words. All the learned behaviour: the yelling, the screaming. Turning to inappropriate humor as some means of therapy, amused by the horror on their faces when I cussed, as if that meant…

The House I Grew Up In

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If I shut my eyes now, I can pretend it’s happening, although it’s decades later and the memories are a scattered dream; unorganized flashes of pictures in time. It seems I’ve channelled the girlhood visions of a ghost or a child who never really lived, a mere night terror haunting my subconscious. Some scenes are more vivid than others, yet deep inside, I know it’s true, just as I am telling it.  I’m there again, inside Nature’s prison. I try nodding off, but it’s difficult, a typical night in the maroon-coloured, weather-beaten house on the edge of a hill in the Middle of Nowhere. Tomorrow’s like any other. After my nightmares push me to wakefulness, I recognize the same man’s voice, all over again. In the morning, Winter’s cold creeps inside, numbing toes under the thin blanket. Kitchen utensils scrape on pots like fingers on a chalkboard in a schoolroom I’d neve visit. Thunderous footsteps mean my father awakes, too. Then-click! The sound of my mother’s thumb on the tape recorder,…