At Dinner My Father Asked About A Monthly Allowance I Never Received And The Truth Fell Silent Across The Room

a year ago, the one who drank vending machine orange juice in supply closets and called it managing, who had constructed an entire identity around not needing anything because the alternative was admitting that she needed things she wasn’t getting.

I thought about who I was becoming. Someone who slept. Someone who ate real food. Someone who knew what continue reading …