Monday, January 16, 2017

chancla

She'd tell me this story of how her mother often chased her around their home with a leather sandal. She'd run to the barn and climb to the top, knowing she couldn't go after her herself. She'd wait for hours until her father got home so he could talk her mother down. He'd climb up for her, and help bring her down. She would tell me how furious her mother would get and how she'd still mutter threats under her breath.

Just wait until your father leaves.

I never said it out loud, but I guess you become your parents.

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