One Year Gone

by Avery Bishop

A butterfly, my daughter once said, was the most perfect animal in the world.

To make great art, one must first suffer. Or something like that.

stable, healthy relationship consisted of those times when the couple has a rage-filled argument. Screaming and shouting with maybe a TV remote or phone thrown at the wall. It wasn’t healthy to suppress all that anger and frustration; it needed to come out, and if it didn’t, the relationship suffered.

I’ve been wondering lately. How to disappear. How one day you decide you don’t want to be where you are anymore, and just leave.

“It’s okay, Mommy. I wasn’t scared. I knew you would find me.”

Crushed