Friday, March 16, 2012

The Day Daddy Became Pop

The Scintilla Project. Day3.
What's the story of the most difficult challenge you've faced in a relationship?

Lesson Twelve


Daddy pulls his belt off, folds the strap in two, lets it slack, then snaps it back. POP! Like a cap pistol. CRACK! Like a firecracker, this hot July morning. What sorry soul taught him that cruel trick; the warning shots before the beating begins. I’m twelve now, so I get the strap on the backside because the baby spilled the sugar bowl. I’m twelve this time, so what daddy doesn’t know; I can only fight back by giving no satisfaction. I’ll not cry this time. I’ll never cry again. Go on Pop; snap the strap, let it loose; I will never cry again. Never.

Some moments are riverstones collected years ago, carried in the deep pockets of our memory. On the dark, doubtful nights, we run our fingers over the stone’s surface, feeling the same as when we first held it.

Today, I throw that moment into the middle of the river; forget, regret, forgive, forget.


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4 comments:

  1. This breaks my heart for that boy, still carrying those stones in his pockets.

    "forget, regret, forgive, forget"

    I hope it lands with a loud splash and sinks into the darkness. Forever.

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  2. p.s. i meant to say also that i love the image.

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  3. I remember that pop, my father did that as well. He liked to taunt, to tease; he liked to instill fear as much as pain. We are brothers in arms, my friend.

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  4. I feel the need to mother all you lost boys.

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