Thank you for your feedback on last week’s story! This Monday, I’m posting the next installment. If you’re the kind of reader who likes a more interactive reading experience, feel free to fill out the opinion survey at the end. If you prefer a less interactive experience, fill a fragrant cup with your favorite hot beverage, sit back in a comfy chair, watch the steam rise into the air, and step into another world for a few moments, before returning to your Monday.
Excerpt from where we left off last week:
My mother was only nineteen when she decided to marry my father. If a nineteen-year-old today told me she was about to get married, before finishing college, and give birth to her first child nine months later, I would predict ruin and failure: a college dropout at the very least; an early divorcee in all likelihood. But my mother finished college, and my parents are still married. What made them so confident that they could succeed, when I, twenty-one-years later at the same age, was barely capable of taking care of myself, much less my pet fish, who met with a tragic and untimely death after I forgot to feed it for five weeks? What made them think it would work for them? It was this same kind of brazen, inexplicable confidence with which they looked at that decrepit house behind the oak trees, and imagined they’d be able to turn it into something livable one day.