Wren Chambers

The Weight

My father was a bitter man. He was convinced the world was desperate to deceive and deprive him of all he was owed. Every neighbor with a nicer house or more expensive car was laughing at him. Every day spent at work was one stolen from his life. Every meal my mother made for him was just ash in his mouth. I remember once he likened his dinner to soil and accused her of trying to bury him in an early grave.