William L. Alton | Poet, Writer
Lies, Fibs, and Fabrications
by William L. Alton
Excerpt from Lies, Fibs, & Fabrications
Home
“We lived in a house with a history. It was big and old. Civil War old. We had power and water. Gas in the kitchen. We had push-button light switches. Copper wires in the walls. Our house used to be a cathouse. Our house used to be all bedsprings and orgasms. We all had our own rooms. The grandparents had theirs. Mom and me too. Uncle Truman and Aunt Betty and their kids. The house held us all. It held the drinking and the cigarette smoke. It held the fights and the silent retribution. The screenless windows were all eyes in a red face. Our house knew things. It kept our secrets.”
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