the sky is weeping
flooding streets, drowning my joy
focus: summer plans
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Tina D. Lopez and writers in Poets and other communities.
December 8, 1980
When I was six or seven, my stepdad came into my life, and I remember thinking he knew everything. He could befriend anybody, anywhere. In grocery stores, he chatted with strangers over cuts of meat; at gas stations, he bonded with people pumping fuel over how the smell of gasoline was disgusting and yet enjoyable. In restaurants, he took an interest in waiters’ lives—like Steve, whose father was dying of cancer. When Steve’s dad died, my new dad attended the funeral.
By Tina D. LopezExclusive • 2 months ago
Parting is such sweet and salty sorrow...
Dear Wife— At first, I hesitated to go forward with this resolution. But after your recent late-night binges scarfing down bags of chicharrónes—those pork rinds you dip in butter and the god-awful crunch they make, I knew I could no longer reach you.
By Lamar Wiggins5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.