Killing Flies
Bob Thurber

After dad left, things were tight, but mom said God was watching out for us. In the morning she took us downtown, let us sit in a back booth and wait for her while she worked. We played a game, killing flies. I think her boss complained because she quit her job before lunch and we went for ice cream. Then she took us home and got drunk with the landlord. That night a big black man came to the house in a taxi. He wanted to see dad. He said mom was lying. He yelled and looked in closets and under beds. He came back four times, always in a taxi. My sister, who was an idiot then and grew up to be a bigger idiot later, thought the black man must be god, but that didn't make any sense, then or now.