Alison Espach

My father moved out a week later. I hugged him at our front door and couldn't bear to watch him leave with so much luggage.

Inside my house, nobody was home, except everybody, but it was easy to feel like those were one and the same.

I rolled the ball of muffin and I waited and after my mother said, "That you should really take a multivitamin," my father threw up his hands in disgust, and I was positive I had no family at all, certain it was not my mother but the solar wind that carried me into the universe.

Cry your guts out because nothing is sadder than an adult who forgets how to be a child.

Adults were constantly auditioning, but for what?

All fathers are liars . . . If you want to be a father, you have to be prepared to become a liar.