by Uma Menon
One day you start to realize your father
is a child and maybe that happens early
on because he is just so silly. He wants
to go outside and play, in the sidewalk,
the garden. He won’t eat cauliflower and
eggplant under any circumstance. He
forgets to turn the television off so when
you come home, it has fallen asleep
with only the time showing. He can fall
asleep in seconds on the sofa with the
television on. Then one day he might
fall on the sidewalk and scrape his knee
and you might not pay much attention
because children scrape their knee all
the time. Afterwards maybe you will feel
bad. You don’t come home for months.
When you do, it has healed because
that is what time does to wounds.
You are so grateful to time.
Uma Menon is a writer from Winter Park, Florida. Her work has appeared in The Washington Post, The Progressive, The Massachusetts Review, and other publications. She is the author of My Mother’s Tongues (Candlewick Press, 2024) and Our Mothers’ Names (Candlewick Press, 2025). Read more at theumamenon.com.