Fag

The sun is shadowed by the trees. I see their silhouettes while I listen to my parents argue. My dad gets into his car and lays on the horn. My mom, ever so unorganized, rushes out from our house dropping her purse. My father throws his hands up while I remain fixed on the sky. My mother literally snaps me back to reality by flicking her fingers near the tip of my nose. “Stop staring, you’ll strain your eyes.” When I look at her, the entire back of her head is backlit. I hear her voice but don’t see her face. My dad honks again. “For Christ’s sake” she mumbles holding up a finger, signaling for him to wait. “You know your father” she says. Suddenly her face is clear and comes back in focus. I step in front of her. “Mom!” Dad honks again. “Honey, please.” She side steps, avoiding the entire conversation and gets in the car. She waves, as they drive off. “Your sons a fag.”