The mattress and feather pillow had been stripped of their linens. The rest of my belongings were packed away in cardboard boxes stacked in my closet....Garp!" my mother bellowed "Dinner!"The three of us (my mother, my father and myself) sat down to a silent but delicious "family" meal. Chewing ruthlessly on tension, difference and indifference. Following the string tightening period I surrendered back to my bedroom where I would scroll in my journal for the next four hours. Until my father would. They landed and walked hand-in-hand to the luggage rack where they waited and made small jokes about people for Mitchell's bags. When they finally both came up they snatched them and rushed from the building, racing a little through the parking garage to his fathers pick-up truck. Mitchell shoved his bags down onto the floor boards of the truck as his father started the engine. His rock music blasting already, but he reached over and turned it down a little so his son didn't go deaf so early in. More

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