The Divorce Countdown: Tears in the Closet
Language: en
I was the most troublesome six-year-old little tyrant in Aviator Gardens, Silverpine, Franklin. My dad was an airline captain, and my mom was the principal dancer of the Silverpine Ballet Company. I was the proof of their love. Whenever Dad returned from a flight, the first thing he did was rub his stubbled cheek against mine; Mom even insured her hands for a fortune because she used them to braid my hair. I could cover the walls with paint and refuse every part of a pork rib except the crunchy cartilage. Then last night, while hiding in the closet during hide-and-seek, I suddenly…