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                by Alex Soto


One day, when I was standing in my father’s shoes, I noticed my mother weeping. Most days, her mouth went unfed. Her bed unslept on. Confusion filled her head. The tears were something new. My mother was a ghost. Living in the same house had done that to her. Standing in my father’s shoes, I asked her why she was weeping. No reply. She leaned over and took me out of my father’s shoes. I followed her, I watched her tuck my father’s shoes under the bed. She sat on the floor with a blank stare. Some days, she took no notice of me. Her mind wandered off into the heavens and threatened never to return. Her mouth went unfed. Her bed unslept on. To make her notice, I grabbed my father’s shoes and put his clothes on. I went up to my mother and told her that I could be her husband. No reply. To make her notice, I grabbed a knife and put it to my throat. She looked down at me and walked away. No reply. To make her notice, I grabbed a knife and put it to her throat.