A young homeless couple
living below the poverty line,
among the sirens of despair
Dream of stepping lightly,
waltzing on the cliff of hope,
high in the rich hills of midnight
Moving to the rhythm of the universe,
to the song in their hearts
to a light show down below
Slowly, in their own time,
giving each other their hands,
they find their desires
Discover themselves, their passion
in the City of Angels, dancing
like Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire.
There was silence. My dad felt lower than any point in his life, even worse than the day my mother walked out on him. His shiny bald head reflected the harsh ceiling light; his blue eyes sparkled with tears. He knew that the bottle was destroying him from the inside out. He also knew that I was giving him an opportunity to get sober.
Excerpt from Detox. Read Detox on Friday Flash Fiction.
Please tell him to cool it with all the wildfires in California, please.