An excerpt is out today from a memoir I have been working on about my father, and all the things we never could talk about...
My father was resting on the sofa-bed, slightly pulled up against a pile of cushions my brother arranged last night after we got him out of the hospital so he could die at home. From where I was standing in the semi-darkness, his large frame, illuminated by morning light coming through the French windows, looked like a windowpane leaning against a wall.
You can read more in the (Parenthesis) Review https://www.parenthesesreview.com/essays/a-soundproof-room
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