My phone vibrates. I check to see who it is. It is an unsaved number but I answer, leaning back as the preliminary recording begins. I put the call on speaker, waiting for instruction to press one. My dad has been in jail my entire life. I have no memory of him outside of a prison visiting room. Hey, I say as he spills on about my sister ignoring his calls. I drift off, thinking about what it would have meant to know him. You have one minute left, the recording plays. I look down and four minutes have passed.
Parajai Sanders is a recent grad returning from a one-year hiatus of writer's block. Find Parajai on Instagram @_parajai.