I was seven years old. Mom raised all of us alone in Korea while dad was in America. We moved in with grandma, a single room make shift shack in a backyard of someone's house. The dog barked and chased us around his doghouse like uninvited guests. After school, grandma had a bowl of rice with marinated beef jerky waiting. I was her first grandson. Grandma never took to mom. Mom and grandma argued a lot. We all slept on the floor. My brother, sister and I in the middle. Mom slept on one end of the room and grandma on the other. Every night I stared into the silence of the night in its entombed blackness. I was afraid to move. I didn't want one of them in the morning to find me facing the other.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment