Father's Day

by Ellis Ray Chandler

The card arrived in the mail, no return address, just TO DAD scrawled in a childlike hand that made his stomach flip. He hadn’t heard from anyone in years, not since the divorce, not since the accident, not since the night he lost everything in one stupid, selfish decision. Trembling, he opened it slowly, expecting blame or forgiveness, or maybe both, but inside was only a Polaroid of a birthday cake with seven unlit candles. On the back, in a shaky red crayon, it read, WE'RE WAITING FOR YOU TO COME BLOW THEM OUT. That night, the hallway grew cold and the lights flickered, just like they had that other night, long ago. And for the first time in ages, he heard giggling in the basement.

6S

Ellis Ray Chandler lives in a creaky house in upstate New York.