Dig.

by A.S. King

The question is: What am I even doing here?

Fuck men. No offense, but y’all are a bunch of assholes . . . fathers included.”

They teach us how to write a clear thesis statement long before they teach us how to deal with creepy-maybe-sex-offenders.

It’s as if those children are all trying to do better with us—their children—but they don’t know how. You probably think I’m too stoned for Easter dinner.

“I want to give them all a key.”

But maybe all families are mysteries. Maybe all families have secrets. Maybe none of us is perfect, ever.

I’m needed here because this is where the ignorance is. Even my own.

Doesn’t matter what she said. Gottfried realizes that it never mattered what she said. He wasn’t listening. Too old to learn now.