Iris:
Imagine you are getting defeated left and right.
You have only met disappointment so far, and then you return home to find your mother sitting on the couch, stirring more trouble for you.
"So, what did he say?" my mother asked, tapping her fingers on the couch's armrest.
She had sat me down the moment I walked in, not even letting the kids spend more time with me before sending them back to their rooms.
"I didn't speak with him," I stated, and my mother's frown deepened.
"Why not?" she questioned.
I wondered if she was so bad at reading faces that she could never tell what her daughter was going through, enough to stop asking questions that already made me uncomfortable.
"By the time I got ready to speak with him, I realized he had already left," I lied, and my mother rolled her eyes.
"Well, then you are going to go and speak with him now. He must have come back. He must be home by now," my mother remarked, and I began to grunt.
