With bloody hands I waved “goodbye”

LitLatte

I painstakingly plucked out bloody feathers from the turkey. It was time to wring it’s leg, twist and then chop. This needed to be done with finesse, after all it was Thanksgiving tomorrow.

Laura came running from the bedroom, to get to her phone, that had been ringing incessantly. She picked it and ran inside our room. She had been doing that a lot lately, running to dark corners with her phone, whispering. She thought I was stupid, I did not understand. I also knew what her friends thought about me, that I was slow in the head. Isn’t that why I was a stay at home dad?

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A 6.5 feet, giant of a man, who couldn’t even get a job. Who spoke slow, in slurs and could not use big words.

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