PART 3 OF 8
WHAT CRUELTY IS CALLED
Mavenlus DeskFICTION
My mind flooded with memories, and they did not arrive in order. They arrived all at once, the way water arrives.
My father selling his car.
I was eleven. He told me it was because the city was putting in a new bus line and it would be quicker. I believed that for about twenty years.