Member-only story
Short story, Fiction
The Answer
Sometimes the answer to a problem is not where you think it is.
John stands in front of his office window staring absentmindedly at the empty school playground. His steely gaze sweeps over the candy wrappers and half-eaten sandwiches.
He does not register the mini-tornado chaos created by his middle school students at break time. He is deep in thought as he is milling over a current issue he and his mom have with his alcoholic and abusive father.
He thinks it may be time to pack the relationship with his dad in because the man is keeping on to disappoint them. “I am not going to change him by keeping on worrying about him,” he ponders.
“What else can I do? Everything I do seems to fail,” he muses. “Johnny boy, you need to find your own apartment lad. But what about mom?”
It is something to think about but he knows he can’t leave his mom alone to deal with his dad’s alcoholic rages.
A gentle wind sweeps up two crumpled school worksheets. They dance a slow feathery waltz in the warm and humid near-summer air. The sudden movement distracts him from his reeling thoughts.
He focuses on the playground mess. “I will need to remind the kids during tomorrow morning’s assembly that…
