Rings of Honor

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The house still smelled the same like stale hotdog water and medicine. I don’t know why. I guess his caretakers hadn't cared enough to clean up. I picked at the peeling wallpaper. Gold flecks and roses. The late seventies and early eighties were something else in the way of of interior decoration. M...

I watched their lives derail slowly. Every day I sat on the bottom step of our front porch, picking my cuticles until they bled and watching the house across the street. Keeping up with appearances, indeed. I figure it is only a matter of time until the house and its occupants disappear into the nig...