One Basket

My dog leans into my thigh, her liquid eyes filled with expectation. She wants her human daddy home. I brush my fingers over her ears, whisper: Never put your eggs all in one basket.

Once upon a time my dad went on a business trip. So he said. On the weekend of my birthday I thought his return would be the biggest gift I’d ever receive.

After my party, after he didn’t show, my mom whispered: don’t put all your eggs in one basket.

And then they divorced.

He immediately re-married.

I put the pieces together.

No basket required.

End

Sascha Darlington