I'm sitting in front of the TV in the small living room. The shaggy, brown-colored carpet rubbed against my knees. My silk, yellow sundress, wrinkled to high heaven-bunched up near my lower thigh. My thin blonde hair pulled back into low pigtails hung loosely over my shoulders.
I'm watching an episode of Dora The Explorer, shouting back at Dora each time she asks where something is located. "Do you see Boots?" Dora's childish voice droned for a single moment.
Dad was passed out on the white living room couch behind me, slumped from another long night at the factory. At least he remembered to change out of his smelly work clothes. I thought. He changed into lounge clothes: a white, sweat-stained t-shirt and blue cotton shorts.
"Yes! Right there, behind the big bush!" I squealed. I ran up to the TV, pressing my tiny fingers against its screen. At this age, I didn't know that Dora couldn't hear me, or see me, or look at what I was pointing towards.
"Sit back down, Pumpkin. Papa's a little tired, okay?" Dad grumbled sleepily, shifting around on the couch. That's the moment when Mom walked into the room. I think that's when the I felt the change of mood.
When she's worried, or has urgent news to give to Dad, she taps her foot on the ground. Once I hear the foot tapping, my eager smile disappears instantly. The room no longer feels warm, or comforting by Dad's soft breathing - or Dora's obvious questions throughout her "adventure". The episode continues on in the background, with Dora's voice slowly growing distant - almost fading away from the TV altogether. My face, just moments ago, colorful and vibrant, drains to pale and ice-cold. My mouth feels cotton-dry. My heart leaps into my throat, clawing and scraping at my throat's walls.
"Steve, turn on the news channel. Now," Mom instructs gravely. And, that's when I saw it for the first and only time: The Nuke.
YOU ARE READING
The Good Days
Mystery / ThrillerIt happened thirty years ago, I remember that day like no other. All was well, people were outside chatting, watering plants, doing. . . normal things. Then, all you see in the distance is this big, angry red cloud, your ears begin to ring - a pitch...
