by Olga Katsovskiy
When I’d visit on the weekends, one of my tapes would be in the cassette deck in your boombox and I’d get so mad you were listening to my diary. That’s what those were for me when I was a kid. I’d record everything: the wail of the alarm clock, gum smacking, Sprite sizzling, glasses clanking, toilet flushing, plastic dominoes skittering across the table, mom’s laughter and my squeals like exclamations when you’d clap your hands when you’d let her win. I found one in my old portable player, and it all came out garbled. A door slammed shut.
Olga Katsovskiy is mostly powered by coffee. She is a writer, editor-in-chief at JMWW, educator, and healthcare administrator. Her essays have appeared in Atticus Review: The Attic, Barzakh Magazine, the Brevity Blog, Pithead Chapel, Short Reads, and elsewhere. Find more at theweightofaletter.com
Emerge Literary Journal 