Parched Girls

A Short Essay in Response to Yours

Photo by Heather Shevlin on Unsplash

I know where you get it, that confidence that rolls like oil down that self that you own, you’re like a salmon, rich with it. I stand over here, parched, and I’ll tell you exactly why. I read your essay. I think know who your father was. You talked of your father, whom you lost, and your sadness billowed bigger than any loss for my own father I could have known.