NINE

2001-08-10 @ 1:35 p.m.

I sat across the dinner table from my father last night and we were both furious. He was not mad at me, but I was at him. He was mad because no one cared about his tomatoes. I know, I don't understand either. I was mad at him because his tirade affects our whole family, no matter what he is mad about. We didn't talk to each other. I ate my dinner and he read the paper. One thing was on each of our minds though: our frustrations.

If you mess with my mind, I'll mess with yours.

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