#masculinity by Rhona Millar
He rubbed weird oil on his hands from a tin after working on one of the many old bangers that cluttered our garage and driveway.
He rubbed weird oil on his hands from a tin after working on one of the many old bangers that cluttered our garage and driveway.
This was in the days before people would break a window to get a kid out of a hot car.
Like a strong wind, Frank took to knocking nests out of trees. They were always empty, and he was damned if he’d let them forewarn the day he’d find himself living alone.
We used to squat by the tub and scoop minnows from our bathwater by the dozens. Shelly liked to eat them whole, but I was strictly catch and release. She called it a cruel kindness to submit them to such treatment.
It was her fourth day off the meds and the second week of his mindfulness phase.