Admitted As A Legal Orphan
Language: en
I grew up in a disposable house. I wore disposable paper slippers, brushed my teeth with disposable travel-sized plastic brushes, and slept in the unfinished crawl space beneath the rafters. Whenever I came home, I had to sit on the porch steps, waiting for someone else to turn the deadbolt. I was never given a key. Worse, my name was never added to the family’s legal residency papers. On every official tax return, every municipal census record, I simply did not exist. Years ago, when my parents packed up to chase wealth in the city, they took my brother, Sean, because he was the boy,…