The Sundress and the Serpent

by Craig Church

Tears burn my eyes as I crack open the sliding door and slip out the back of the house. I pull up the hood of my jacket and cinch it tight against the heavy, damp cold, looking over my shoulder to where the flickering light of the television illuminates Dad’s beer gut, rising and falling in time with his guttural snoring. At least one of us can sleep.

The sun will be up before long. I need to get a move on.

I know the path by heart after making this trek so many times, so the soupy morning fog doesn’t deter me. I stroll past the dark, uninhabited vacation homes dotting the shoreline and recall how indignant I was when Dad moved us into a cramped mobile home along this remote stretch of Oregon’s coast. He’d just wanted to run away after Mom died, and didn’t give a second thought to uprooting his teenage daughter. At the time I’d hated him for it.

Now, maybe not so much. (Continue Reading…)