at 17, I superimpose where things used to be, bunking down in what remains of my near-empty childhood bedroom colored ankle-vein blue, just days before dad gives me and mom the boot to rent the place out as an additional stream of revenue for himself, post-divorce, it’s January in Minnesota and though it’s a worn-out cliché, dad won’t turn the heat on, so I sit crisscross applesauce on the floor listening to Paul Simon sing about armor and islands, rocks and poems out of an old bulbous Macintosh computer, no joke, I can see my breath, shivering as I wait for a girl, who, with my assistance, occasionally cheats on her out-of-state boyfriend to pull up by the streetlight at 3am in her brand-new Ford Escape and I’ll sneak out of the dead house, cold as a corpse vacant of soul, to brave the snow with 4-wheel drive but this time, the boyfriend will call just as we slip off our coats, demanding a word, so I’ll turn down the music and totally redeem their relationship, unlike my parent’s, but if you think about it 1-for-2, or batting .500, is actually quite good.
Paul Rousseau is a disabled writer. His debut Friendly Fire: A Fractured Memoir is forthcoming from HarperCollins September 10th, 2024. Paul’s work has also appeared in Roxane Gay’s The Audacity, Catapult, and Wigleaf, among others. You can read his words online at Paul-Rousseau.com and follow him on Twitter @Paulwrites7.
Lost Balloon 