Dad wasn’t answering his phone. I left work early and went to his place.
I entered through the garage. The kitchen floor was crunchy with something–sugar or salt strewn everywhere. “Dad,” I called. The house felt empty and the sensation sucked the breath out of me. I rushed from room to room calling his name, but he was not there.
The dog. The dog was gone, too. I took a breath–he was out walking the dog. That had to be it. I stepped out the front door and looked toward the small park where he always . . .
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “sugar.”
Celeste,my ex-husband’s demonic cat, was white, fluffy, and blue-eyed, and she hated me. Whenever I walked past her, she would hiss. Left alone in the house, she would get up on the kitchen table, scoop sugar out of the bowl, and toss it into the air. Whee! It’s snowing!