My father made a new friend Mother does not approve of. Draped in orange and white, bears a fire in her he cannot handle.
But with lips pressed against her he took in her hidden ugliness. She was too clingy. He said, "I can't breathe."
Those three words became the worst we'd ever heard right behind "You have cancer."
Time became a distant tune; waiting, waiting, waiting.
My father has expiration dates tattooed under his eyelids. He plans his funeral like the 50th birthday party he will never get but there will be too much blurry vision and black, no one will know the difference.
This one's for you, Dad. You're holding out and I'm so proud of you.