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A Dream That Came to Pass Or What Came After

It was sometime in mid-July when my father was guilted into attending his mothers place of worship and by extension that meant that so had we. I had been dreading it all afternoon, still clinging to the chance that maybe he had lied to her in an attempt to deflect her authoritarianism. But, as Christ himself is supposed to have said, “Suffer the little children...” We had been staying with my grandmother after my fathers most recent relapse into opioid addiction and he was ostensibly attempting to hide from his own shame, or what we might refer to as “moms side of the family.” It was weeks before we finally came home together. However, once home, we quickly realized, that what we may have originally mistaken for shame, turned out to be nothing more than pure unadulterated puerility. But aside from this, the decisive feature to appreciate about my grandmother is that she is a very spiteful and manipulative person. A person whom I have never trusted. Her guilt trips could last decades …

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