Thought Catalog

Brett Wright

Brett is a writer and editor living in New York, NY. If spirit animals are still a thing, then his is Josie Grossie. ...

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We’re miles away from the city and there’s no way for me to get home until he drives me back in the morning, where I’ll ask him to drop me off ten blocks from my apartment so he won’t know where I live.

For as long as I’ve known them, my parents have slept in separate rooms. The master bedroom became just Mom’s bedroom, while Dad curled up on the living room couch.

I looked at him, and then at his brown shag carpet. And then I bent my knees as if going down for prayer. I kissed him and he handed me the tissue.

Outside the rain begins to fall, and a layer of water rises and rushes down the street. I can barely see the city, but I know it’s there. Somewhere.