Daddy’s Dinner

Dad said he’d gone hunting for the weekend.
But it looked like he’d gone fishing.

He told me to hush and eat my dinner but I didn’t know octopus had fingers.

Luckily I didn’t.

But daddy did.
Whatever he ate bulked out of his throat, traveled down and ate his liver.

Dad screamed in agony and ripped his hair out as he called out for his big boy trigger.

I ran and grabbed the neighbor.

But when I got back Daddy started to choke and then he spoke and said I was lucky I didn’t eat my dinner.

Dad told me to run as his voice broke and he then softly asked the neighbor to stay for dinner.

When I ran back to Mrs. Shirley she cried out and called the sheriff so he could pull his trigger.

When I last saw daddy his fingers weren’t the same. They looked slimy like what ate his liver.

Poor Mr. Shirley didn’t look good as daddy’s dinner.

 

“Bang”

 

He went out as the sheriff put an end to that horrendous dinner.

Tags:
Natalie Castro
Ncast098@fiu.edu