Afraid Not

by J.E. Tirey

Dad used to tell me jokes, most of them inappropriate for young girls. I only remember a few jokes he told me, like the one about a frayed knot rolling into a bar. Next to Crown Royal, I was Dad's best friend. Now he's in a jar in the earth beside his parents, consumed by fire and the drink. That was 13 years ago. The only things I inherited were his brown eyes and some old jokes that just aren't as funny without him.


J.E. Tirey is a frustrated fiction writer and sometime poet. Her poem, "Heat Index," is included in Maize magazine, former publication of the Writers Center of Indiana.


Madam Z said...

Oh so sweet, J.E. I'd think you were writing about my daddy, except he had green eyes and died by a bullet, instead of "fire and the drink."

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Shaindel said...

From one Indiana gal to another, fantastic work, J. E.! I hope to read more of you :-)