I bask in the warm cinnamon heat, wishing I had held back till we finished the sugary churro funnel cake she had ordered with uninformed optimism.
All tagged goodbye
I bask in the warm cinnamon heat, wishing I had held back till we finished the sugary churro funnel cake she had ordered with uninformed optimism.
I sit on the idling school bus, knitting a scarf and waiting for the other students to board so we can all go home, but the head that appears at the front of the bus belongs to my father, not a fellow student.
The van has left already. I tell you I'll need a moment and walk to the terrace.
Mom and I trudge up the hill through the warm Kansas rain, lugging my possessions up two flights into my college suite. Dad sits in our van with the Colorado plates, eerily silent after a lifetime of telling me I’d be the one to make it to college.
As the bus pulled away, I twisted around in my seat to watch her wave. How long did she stay on the porch, coatless in December, watching the bus go down the street?
After he reloops his belt, he holds me, asking about my plans for the day, about seeing me again. I sigh and say, "I don't really believe you."