By Roy Gomez
I can’t hear to my right. That’s because of my ear. It’s bad. Every lousy thing that’s ever happened to me has seeped right through it. Now it’s all black –black and damned. Being partly deaf is okay, though, it’s the slow rotting that I hate. Years ago, when I still believed in people, I used to turn that same ear toward them – kind, sympathetic, I allowed that we all make mistakes. But eventually it all came to nothing. That withering right ear just knows. I’m cursed. But that’s all right too. By every word I hear, so is everybody else.
Wow! This one packs a punch, Roy. Well done!
Thanks Susan. I look forward to reading one of your own beauties here.
Wow, Roy! This is a beautiful if gritty little story. It really packs a punch! I look forward to reading more of your stories!
Deep. We grow weary. Loved it
Don’t know if I ever thanked you for reading and commenting, stating, in fact, a precise interpretation.
The VA said I was either dead or deaf, I’m still trying to figure it out, but try deaf in both ears, OOOOHHHRAY.
My mom couldn’t hear, but she was the best listener I’ve ever known.