My Father Tossed a Blue Savings Passbook into the Mud at Cedar Ridge
Miller read him the permanent injunction.”
Arthur cleared his throat loudly.
“Your father is living in a weekly rental out by the highway,” Arthur said.
“He’s living the exact quiet misery he tried to force on you.”
I took a sharp utility knife out of my pocket and sliced the packing tape on the last box.
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore,” I said.
“Understood,” Arthur said.