Pull the Blinds – Kelly Jones

My daddy likes to talk. He calls to say he was looking in a window while on his nightly walk and the woman inside – brushing her hair – reminded him of me. He says he remembers when my hair was long. How I used to be beautiful. I tell him to stop peeping. One day my phone rang thirty seven times. He left messages marked urgent, said “honey, you don’t have to call back, it’s not important.” I can’t believe him when he says he’s changed. It’s easier to change my number then explain to him all the levels on which he disgusts me. Sometimes in my dreams he’s at a park, talking to children. He sits on a bench and watches. They play Ring-Around-The-Rosie. London Bridge. It all falls down.

Kelly Jones writes, works, and plays in New Orleans. A good deal of her adult life has been devoted to obtaining pieces of papers that verify her knowledge of things. She is terribly fond of manatees, glitter, Wild Turkey, and dance parties. In her spare time she edits The Gambler, lazes by the bayou, and tries to come to terms with the concept of infinity.  She can be found on Tumblr at callingkellyjones.tumblr.com.

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