My father is newly, blissfully remarried— and I can’t stand it
So wide, I almost expected a cat to appear.
I blinked hard. Possibly my brain was half addled, what with the noxious perfume produced by the roses stuffed in every corner.
Three-quarters addled, by so much heavy. My childhood home, unrecognizable. Smothered by layers upon layers of suffocation.
Brocade curtains. Velvet tablecloths. Frames and figurines, miniatures and ornaments and so much clutter I couldn’t or wouldn’t identify.
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