sundaymorning
My mother, standing by the sink in her yellow sundress, poured a capful of bleach into the water to wash the dishes. I banged on my table with fists full of silverware, my sister beside me sang a nursery rhyme. My mother, sun in her hair and a weary haggard face, did not tell us to be quiet. She discretely poured the bleach into our oatmeal.
HAHAHA I'M DEAD NOW, BITCH!