The Doorway I Stopped Checking
Every night I cross the street before his doorway so I don't have to decide whether to speak. Tonight it was empty.
Forty Minutes in the Garage
Forty minutes in a hospital parking garage at two a.m., and the one thing about my father I can only say to the dashboard.
Letting Her Calls Go to Voicemail
My mom called twice today and I let it ring both times. There's a voicemail from Tuesday I still haven't played.