God Loves The Sinner, But Not One Like Me – by Suann Amero

Turning from the window to look at Mom and Dad, I watched as she zipped the last bag and he pulled the blankets up over the pillows in his sloppy man-version of making the bed. Mom was vibrating with anger. I had no idea why she was so upset, I was just thankful that her anger wasn’t aimed at me.

Early Mentors – by Victoria MacDonald

She has found a great bargain, and the lady who sold the property is leaving a kitchen table, dishes, some cots, a dock and a boat.

“We’ll drive up north to see it next weekend,” she adds.

My Mother’s Ladder – By Finnian Burnett

My mother is building a ladder. She says she needs to change the bulb in the hallway, the one she has asked my father to change only a dozen times. I stand in the doorway of the garage and listen to her banging and swearing, the thundering bellow of her voice shaking the doorframe.