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Haley

A door squeaks open at the far end of the barren hallway and the clicking of high heels echoes off the row of metal post-office boxes I atteh the mail All of it leftovers froazine, an Aardening catalog for my mother

Collection notices for my father

There are ive therandfather Maybe I should save us all from the reminder and set them on fire It’s not like there won’t be a fresh batch tomorrow

I juggle a few pieces to keep all of it fro onto the floor Beyond the s, the sky darkens into dusk I inhale deeply to cal rocery list frorandfather who hatesoff and picking up ht and I’ve got two hours to ht on the streets

The woman with the noisy heels continues down the hallway and doesn’t acknowledge my existence as she heads to the employee entrance Unlike me, she’s dressed in a thick winter coat Her hair is the saine my cheeks are painted red, like hers, from the February wind

This building is nor about this is norer have a brick-and-er have a home

I pause at the last letter in the stack, and not in an enlightening way No, this is the same pause I had when my father announced he’d lost his job The same pause I had the day the county sheriff taped the eviction notice on our front door It’s a thin white envelope Its appearance wouldn’t cause anyone else’s heart to sink to their toes For me, it does It’s from the University of Notre Dame, and it’s obviously not an acceptance

I slam the door of the mailbox shut Today sucks

Walking into ym, I feel a little drunk on hope and a little like I’ the rejection fro a letter of recommendation for a scholarship to anywhere is definitely a potent wine Alcohol and an e bold

“My, ohin the shit” Froe, my cousin Jax shouts at me Beads of sweat blanket hiloves on his hands and protective gear on his head I say nothing as I’m fresh out of comebacks

A group of newer fighters war rope to the pissed-off voice of Dr Dre booer than eighteen, older than six, and, for a few seconds, like I’m home

The gy, a step above a warehouse and several steps below those fancy chain gy frorandfather’s various ainning fighters cover the wall A sweet co-in overwhelms my senses

In one corner, two guys go at it in a boxing ring, and in the other corner so Jax, watch a deon

The rustling of nylon athletic pants gains ainst the doorframe of his office His name is John, and he requires us to call hio of his gyuy here, John is toned and a fighting

machine Sixty-two years hasn’t slowed hirando has driven him harder

“It’s a bit chilly,” he says “But not cold enough for hell to have frozen over”

My chin lifts in response “You said I was alelcome”