Her new story follows suit with a very dark examination of matters both familial and fantastic.I am sitting at the kitchen table in my parents’ house with an open book, but I am not even trying to read the words. It is too cold in my upstairs room to take refuge there. I never gave a thought to how small the house is when I was growing up in it. Four downstairs rooms: kitchen, dining room, living room, a short hall with the bath and staircase on one side and my dad's room on the other. And two unheated bedrooms upstairs. My sister and I shared one of them, my brother had the other. It seemed room enough then.When I plugged in a space heater in my room, it threw a circuit breaker and I don't dare try that again. There is no escape from a blaring television announcer, shouts, screams, cheers, commercials: a basketball game. Dad likes to watch basketball, and Mom is pretending an interest. They both have significant hearing loss and probably don't realize how painfully loud the sound is.
What do You think about FSF, January-February 2010?
