Hello and welcome to a new Thursday Taster,
the day when awesome writers all over the blogosphere come together to
give you tasty bits of their last fiction. You can find the list here.
I think I had played the right card, because I had never seen him get mad before. He would always be the calm when my mother was the storm.
"You have no idea what you are talking about, I am not having this conversation with you again," my mother said.
That was a feature we had in common, I would try to avoid facing her at all cost because I could never win, even when I was right and I could see that she was the same, avoiding my father because he could probably yell louder and he would not drop it so easily. He caught her by the arm as she left the room.
"You have two choices, either you leave her study like any kids her age should do, or once she turns eighteen she will never want to see you ever again," my father said.
"Are you threatening me? Once she turns eighteen she is not my problem anymore," my mother said.
"And what are people going to say when your daughter doesn't come home for Christmas? It doesn't look too good in a mother record, I can already hear them: All these years she looked like such an amazing mother sacrifizing everything for her child but really you never know what can happen behind close doors," my father said.
He was going too far, he was enjoying it as if it was the revenge he had always been waiting for. My mother walked away and he went after her. I took my notebook and a pen to be able to write down everything I could remember about the last travel, closed the door of my new home and went after them too.
Lunch was quiet. There was a restaurant in the gallery of the supermarket and we ate there. I could see my father preparing his answers to torture my mother about her personality and her care for me if she dared to open her mouth again to say anything to me. Badmouthing Sabine in front of him had been the worse thing she had ever done, now he wasn't going to let her get out of here with me. My mother was sitting straight as if she was trying to impose herself but she didn't say anything.
"So about the book on General Relativity," I started.
"I told you what I thought about my relationship with math earlier I think, you can keep the book," he said.
If I had had doubts that I might be facing Michelle's father, the one who could travel to other universe just like me, I knew I was wrong. The man in front of me was no doubt the same who had driven me her and couldn't stand thinking about math. But on the other hand I was under the impression that if Michelle's father had been the one who started talking back to my mother for her impossible behavior, my father was the one who enjoyed hitting her where it hurt.
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