The Open Door

Like a mouse, I slipped into the living room, quiet as breath, hoping—as always—not to be seen. “Close the door, you bastard. You’re letting the heat out.” My father jabbed a finger toward the coal fire in the grate, its embers smoldering. A brown leather shoe flashed past my head and struck the door with a hard, echoing thud. I retreated at once, pulled the door shut with care, and climbed the…