Y’all know I write for Life As A Human, right? Here’s an excerpt of the latest of mine to be published there:

Hope is six years old.

“I hope I’ll get an ice cream cone today. I hope grandma doesn’t make me eat turnips. I hope I get a pony ride. I hope daddy will come back someday.”

Hope is a six year old in an woman’s body.

“I hope that if I’m very good, if I smile pretty and wear nice clothes, but I’m naughty in bed, he’ll leave her and be with me.”

The flip side of hope is despair.

Despair is Sylvia Plath readings at a coffee house. Despair is three quarters of a bottle of wine sitting in the bath when he leaves. Again.

Daddy never came back. Men never stay.

It’s worth clicking on over there to read the rest …