NY-For twenty-five years, my stepfather broke his …

at night by the dim bulb in the kitchen, his big fingers awkward around a needle, his face serious as if he were repairing a bridge. The next morning, the sandals were by my bed, ugly but strong.

He walked to the school after bullies cornered me behind the storage shed and shoved my books into a muddy ditch. I had not told him. Someone else must have.continue reading …