When we got back to our house, mom and I crept inside as if we were scared of being heard. She pressed her key in the door slowly, pushed the door open inch by inch like there someone pushing it closed from the other side. There wasn’t.
Hardly anyone ever used the front room, except pop when he was watching television. It’s his room, really, full of things that are his, like his books and his cup and his coat. Mom said we should go stay at Grandma’s, the night pop came for the things that are his. I looked around the room to see what was still here, and to see if I felt any different.
It’s my room now…
Read the full story on Soft Cartel, published March 2019: https://softcartel.com/2019/03/23/we-crept-inside-by-richard-berry/