The veins stand out prominently on his forehead as he lashes out. Wild gesticulations are interspersed with grave pronouncements, made with zero concern for aftermath.
Who would have thought a man who has seen six centuries plus one year could get this worked-up? He continues prancing, each step evoking more deadly utterances.
I am hard-pressed to believe this angry man is my father -- with whom I've gone through thick and thin. A man I stood with when, literally, everyone outside our family questioned his sanity.
I dare not show my face, I am convinced it would only aggravate him. Maybe I should. Maybe if I do he will quit speaking banes over my son.
Is it my fault that father cannot hold his drink? Even drunks have the presence of mind to sleep dressed: how I was I to know he would be unclad when I came in? Has he even considered that maybe I informed my siblings because I was not sure how to handle the situation? What did my son do that he should pay for my misdeeds?
This is an adaptation of Genesis 9: 18-27
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