The look of horror frozen on his face, I will never forget. I knew I'd made a mistake.
It has been many years since I played son to my father. Most of my life since the word Daddy left my lips.
Outside the city, life wore a different face, kept a different rhythm: slower, less pinched, with room enough to breathe, air enough to think....
I awoke in the wee hours one night to find something hovering in the dark just passed the foot of my bed, staring back at me.
It began with the shooting in South Carolina. The following morning at my desk, I glimpsed the CNN headline emblazoned across my computer screen in big, black, bold letters...
DeLon Howell lives and writes in Los Angeles, where he works in communications, occasionally participates in readings, and workshops regularly with a trusted crew of talented writers. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Memoir
Magazine, Hypertext Magazine, snapdragon: a journal of art & healing, Stonecoast Review, Tahoma Literary Review, and Wanderlust Journal. He has previously been a recipient of the Esalen Emerging Writers Fellowship and the Lambda
Literary Fellowship in Nonfiction.