Follow a grief-filled narrative between a father and daughter, reminiscing.
in the bronx dad tells me it is ritual / to smash open a beer bottle / and pour its secrets out onto the sidewalk / an offering / he laughs / for the brothers who could not be here / our dinners are usually silent / filled with the soft hum of unspoken prayers / but tonight dad cracks open / spilling himself into my hands / with words that promise to stick / i had only heard some people could drink like a fish / never seen it happen before / it is the night grandma calls / for the first time in years / to tell us grandpa lost himself to grief / had decided to become a snapper / and burst into the caribbean sea / not once looking back / dad becomes a goldfish for a time / wide-eyed and hazy / though nothing more than that / he couldn’t stand being too free / at breakfast the next morning dad is quiet again / his loosened body / now hardened into silence / perhaps he wants to be a red snapper too / to swim in silver waters / no blood left to surrender
The inspiration for this piece was a memory my dad told me of his mother’s divorce from his father. This memory only added to other stories he had told about his distant brothers, sister, and father. You see, our family is filled with tension, and sometimes I feel I have lost a part of my past due to broken familial bonds.
Carina Solis is a sixteen-year-old writer living in Georgia. She hopes to major in English and her work is published or forthcoming in the Eunoia Review, Wrongdoing Mag, Gone Lawn, and elsewhere. She is an editor at Polyphony Lit and the Origami Review, an intern at Young Eager Writers, and a new mentee at Girls Write Now! Her chapbook, "Daughtersong," was published by Bottlecap Press. In her free time, she enjoys baking and binge-watching k-dramas.