9 Pages of Homework
4 min readFeb 20, 2019
He comes home at 4pm, tosses his book bag on the ground. As he stares off into space, I ask about his day. He shuffles his feet down the long hallway, heading towards the kitchen. He is hungry. He always come home hungry.
His words are muffled. His lips too tired to speak. I hear him say that his day was fine, but anything beyond that is lost to mumbling. Exhaustion. Clearly, he likely reached his breaking point sometime around noon, and just hung on by a thread for the remainder of the ride.
