Comhroinn Fuaime

The leak in the kitchen ceiling had been there since March. Dad put a pot under it, and somehow that pot became furniture. As permanent as the table it sat on, as permanent as the smell of damp wood that never quite left the apartment. I stopped noticing it after a while. You stop noticing lots of …

The leak in the kitchen ceiling had been there since March. Dad put a pot under it, and somehow that pot became furniture. As permanent as the table it sat on, as permanent as the smell of damp wood that never quite left the apartment. I stopped noticing it after a while. You stop noticing lots of things when survival becomes routine. Mom was having a bad week. That meant I was on medication runs, on dinner, and on making sure Rena didn’t slam doors too loudly when she came home from school. Dad