My father would hit me
by Regis Boff
My father would hit me if I did not turn off the lights in our house. He saw value in a penny.
I waste light wantonly now. My son has never turned off a light. I have no confidence he even knows how.
I often wonder whether I am too rich. Our home’s nighttime shine causes astronauts to mistake us for Akron Ohio.
I throw pennies out of my car while driving, treating them like litter.
I suppose Shakespeare was right. Everything men do is about killing our fathers.
Perhaps God’s Father was Darkness.