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I could deconstruct each of my broken homes brick by brick. But I can’t pull out the fists lodged in the walls. The memories have blurred edges, but the taste of blood in my mouth has never been clearer.

The Day Dad Rock Died
522
5

Sam Hauff

Stacey Curran
Stacey Curran

Written by Stacey Curran

942 Followers
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Former reporter; N.E. Press Assoc. Awards, Boston Globe Magazine, McSweeney's, Belladonna, Slackjaw, BostonAccent, WBUR, Weekly Humorist, so many grocery lists

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