Tanya Marie Barrus

The Barn Owl

The barn stands alone in the field, forlorn, empty, waiting for the owl that lives in the loft. As if on cue, the owl screeches into the night. It reminds me of my father, clamoring for attention, flying off into the night, screeching to get the ladies to notice. And notice they did, when he was young, all the young Asian ladies noticed Rob. And he bragged about those nights, bragged to his young daughter.