My son’s afraid of the dark. I try to calm him down by saying, “I’m here, I’m here,” but ever since I died last Summer it only seems to make things worse.
*
Every night for the last thirty years I’ve dreamt that I was falling. Last night I saw the ground for the first time.
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It’s 1:00 AM and the phone just keeps ringing over and over again, so I reach over the sleeping lump in the covers that is my useless husband, pick up the phone, and hear my husband’s voice yelling through the phone, “Honey, get out of the house, now!” The lump in the covers moves.
*
"Hey dad, I ate daisy," said my three year old. "No son," I said, "you need to say you ate a daisy," but then I saw our golden retriever's blood and fur stuck on his face.
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