Mum hates TV.
When my father still lived with us, she bitched about how much he watched the stupid thing.
Now she leaves it on all day. “For company,” she says.
I hear the women talk about her. How she couldn’t keep a husband. I want to punch them in the face—they don’t know anything.
I got my father’s temper.
She’s different, my mum. Fights back with her mind, not her hands.
Half the neighborhood can’t pay their bills but they can see our TV glowing through the windows. They know we have power.
And can waste it.
February 3, 2016 prompt: Power – In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about power