Hindsight Story Night #53

That's what only children do. They watch their mothers die.

On my twelfth birthday, Dad, lit on peppermint schnaps, stood at the front window and said, “I know just how you feel, Joe. You’re not the only guy with a wife whose pussy was sealed by God.”

His last words were, “Son, if you marry a saint she’ll make you a devil.”

Then my mother’s eyes part, and the quilt rises like bellows. Mom has the voice of a desert and says, “You were supposed to be born on Christmas.”

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Chuck Palahniuk