Pantomime

Though it’s foggy, my earliest memory will always stick with me.

 

“I hope I can be just like you when I’m older,” I said through my mouth full of Cheerios. My father put his head in his hands and sighed quietly. I remember looking through the cracks in his fingers and seeing downcast eyes, something I could never forget even if I tried. As a three-year-old, I was naïve and therefore did not understand my father’s heavy breaths, or his gestures of discontentedness. After swallowing my cereal, I put my head in my hands and melodramatically, I sighed too.

By: Matt Moores