prologue

An empty space like this usually gets filled with words on the arbitrary occasion that impressions are left by the random events of our day.

Like a typical day of shopping with the best friend; skipping hours of extra lessons in school and living to tell about it. Running into an old friend, falling asleep at work, lunch with Mum, even a day spent lazing by the pool.

Or, in this case, coming home to a quiet, almost sterile home as it has been for years, and poking my head into Dad’s room for our mandatory daily conversation, which, over the years for reasons yet to be grasped and understood, has translated into the utterance of a single word; ‘ Hi ‘, I say ever so tactfully.

I have clung to this routine as something to hold on to while a family; my family, falls apart over the years. Slowly, subtly. But surely. However tonight is different. I said ‘ Hi ‘, but Dad did not say hello, he did not ask where I had been or how my day was. He did not even look at me. His uncharacteristic failure to reciprocate sent me into a state of mild shock, even panic. I hastily closed the door and almost instinctively, turned the tv on in the living room. Whatever coherent sounds that came from the tv I saw only as noise to break the unnerving, resounding silence. Tears stream down my hot, red cheeks and I realise, that seconds of silence from Dad is enough to send my mind reeling with past hurts and rifts between us all, maybe numbed by years of perpetuation, but never truly healed.