hannah byrne
Bio
colorful goth.
Stories (3)
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Pizza & Gin
I drink gin because it smells like my father’s breath when he used to carry me inside—half asleep or pretending to be—from our 1999 Chevy suburban after a Friday night fish fry. My 60-lb deadweight body; light and safe in his arms. His breathing was slow, rhythmic, and it still is, but for much different reasons. He’s less strong now. Couldn't hold me heavy at 26. And that drink he loved never loved him back the same, but he can’t stop drinking it anyway. I don’t blame him– Bombay Sapphire on the rocks with two olives is kryptonite. But I love how that stinging, pine needle-y liquor smells because it reminds me of being little, before the drinking became a problem. I guess he got heavier, too.
By hannah byrne4 years ago in Families
