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Epidemic

Epidemic A NN P ANCA K E At ten o’clock on a thick July night you pull into what you still call home even though you’re thirty-eight years old and own a house yourself. Turn in the dark road and straddle the ruts, because you were passing within seventy-vfi e miles and haven’t seen your parents since Christmas. And because you know, or at least you’ve heard, that your drug-thralled brother won’t be slinking around because he’s found another fool to take him in this month. You greet your mother, holed up in the TV room with her crasft and her gory police shows, and you know your father tottered o ff to bed an hour ago. And you’re very, very tired, so you pick up your bag and climb the stairs with their faint odor of long-dead animals in the walls. You walk by the open door of your brother’s childhood room. aTh t bed is empty. You move on through to your own old room. It’s your mother’s sewing room now, but your past still sits o ff to the side: Misty of Chincoteague books, 4-H blue ribbons, high school graduation photo, the articfi ial ofl wer arrangement http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Manoa University of Hawai'I Press

Epidemic

Manoa , Volume 32 (1) – Aug 5, 2020

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Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
Copyright
Copyright © University of Hawai'i Press.
ISSN
1527-943x

Abstract

A NN P ANCA K E At ten o’clock on a thick July night you pull into what you still call home even though you’re thirty-eight years old and own a house yourself. Turn in the dark road and straddle the ruts, because you were passing within seventy-vfi e miles and haven’t seen your parents since Christmas. And because you know, or at least you’ve heard, that your drug-thralled brother won’t be slinking around because he’s found another fool to take him in this month. You greet your mother, holed up in the TV room with her crasft and her gory police shows, and you know your father tottered o ff to bed an hour ago. And you’re very, very tired, so you pick up your bag and climb the stairs with their faint odor of long-dead animals in the walls. You walk by the open door of your brother’s childhood room. aTh t bed is empty. You move on through to your own old room. It’s your mother’s sewing room now, but your past still sits o ff to the side: Misty of Chincoteague books, 4-H blue ribbons, high school graduation photo, the articfi ial ofl wer arrangement

Journal

ManoaUniversity of Hawai'I Press

Published: Aug 5, 2020

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