The streetlights had continued to flicker on by the time I reached my dad’s house. My feet were sore, dragging a little as I crossed the sidewalk to his front door. The porch step creaked beneath me, the same way it had always done. It sounded like an old friend or a warning to the horror I was walking into. Hard to say.
I didn’t go inside right away. Instead, I took a quick detour to the corner café and picked up a small to-go box with grilled chicken and steamed vegetables. No soda. No dessert. I wasn’t really hungry, per se. My appetite had already checked out after the day I had just had.
Back at the house, the lights were off in the living room except for the faint glow coming from the TV. My father was passed out on the couch, snoring lightly with a half-empty beer bottle resting o
