The Retrospective Writings

Robin Red Chapter 1 All things become ugly over time. I remember how my mother always whispered that phrase to me in her times of anger. It was her attempt of condoning for the chaos of certain events—to her seemingly oblivious child—at the time. I always felt that, in a sense, she found it as a way of dealing with her emotions surrounding my father’s drinking and his own transformation into the ugly abyss that became his life. It’s like she was talking to herself through me, as if by convincing me, she could alter time and change her current horrible place in the situation. But it wasn’t only my father who proved the ugliness to her, it was the entire world. Even change itself took on the same characteristics as her ugly targets. Nothing could escape her judgmental eye of and for the inevitable. Work, our home, relatives, even my own brother, all would someday succumb to Father Time, be overtaken by fate, and morph to the worst capable outcome. Everything and everyone, ...