Written in response to the black and white challenge offer by Charli Mills’ @ Carrot Ranch.
Until I was eighteen, I was Dad’s favorite. By focusing on my music, becoming the best mandolinist in the three states, I pursued Dad’s ambition, which had been squelched by pragmatic parents.
Music poured through my veins, so it was natural I discover John, the most talented guitarist in three states, who had music pouring through his veins. His fingers caressed strings with innate acuity. His long fingers on long strings stoked desire.
Young, passion and music devoured, guiding us through the moment.
Dad’s world stormed black. His anger smoked white. “Dead to me,” he said, discarding us all.
Sascha Darlington 2/2/2018