True Florida Stories
I’m afraid of my dad’s bedroom. The bare, unlit space smells of old urine and disease, holding nothing but a bed stripped of its sheets and a streak of blood staining the wall. A weathered wheelchair sits in the bathroom; on top, a folded cotton shirt and shorts he was supposed to wear the morning he was sent to hospice. I prefer to keep Dad’s bedroom door closed. It allows me to pretend he’s inside
The lights turn off, letting unrestrained darkness dominate the room. In seconds, it replaces every element that brought energy and agitation to the once-vivid auditorium … Read moreCurtain call
It’s 6:50 a.m. in a nondescript Dunnellon shopping center. Street lights and neon store signs cast a dim glow over the dark lot and Publix won’t open for another ten minutes.Â
The parking lot is almost empty, except for the scattering of cars belonging to the members of the Workout Anytime gym and those of a group of 14 old men sitting along the benches outside of the Breakfast Station restaurant … Read moreThe ROMEOs
I set my phone to a heartbeat vibration a week before I got the call … Read moreIdol lost
My parents, Andrew Hasebroock and Megan Dunne, were just friends during the 1998 fall semester at the University of Florida … Read moreJust keep packing