Enough!

I recall that some of the worst of my mother’s alcohol-fueled episodes were when I was older, likely around high school age. By then I knew that something was wrong and I figured out that it was the alcohol that turned her into an angry monster but I couldn’t understand why my father wouldn’t put…

A wooden chest.

The Chest

I think I must have been 9 or 10 years old when I first used the chest. The chest was a relatively large storage unit that I would put my toys in. It was never organized, never neat, and I know that my mother hated it. I didn’t mind because it was organized chaos and…