Cold

A ripple for every moment

Frigid sky scattered here and there. Shadows watch mountains who are not easily scared. Snowflakes fall as time stands still, while sun's warmth trembles under the treacherous chill. Depths run thin as the ice grows, and blue meets white in the blue shallow. Everything covered perfectly in a blanket, one that is cold and doesn't need to fake it.

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• Parents
• Mom
• Dad
• Frustration
• Mess

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My dad. He has a big heart, but it is the little things that drive me insane. The little things that make me want to move away. But if I did, I would feel sorry for my mom. Maybe then he will start cleaning up his act.

Just this afternoon I decided to have a microwave lasagne. My dad was home and the food appeared good to him also. He grabbed one and waited for me to finish. I sat down. The first question he had was about the microwave. "John, how do I change the power level?" I told him and I heard it start. About a minute later his food was "Ready," but it really should of took five minutes. I just shook my head. He said the lasagne was boiling in the microwave, I asked him if he changed the power level. He said he did what I told him to do. I knew he didn't. He took it out anyways and fussed around behind me. He sat down at the table with some toast while I was finishing. I got up and turned around, the kitchen was destroyed. The toaster was pulled all the way out with crumbs all over it, the butter was left out, the dirty butter knife sitting on the counter next to it, the microwave was still open with tomato sauce shot all over the inside, his lasagne box was still on the counter, and a spoon, he apparently used to dig out an olive, was sitting quietly next to the buttered knife. I asked him if he had ever lived on his own. No answer. I left the kitchen with, "I can't believe you're still alive with the mess you leave behind."

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