Leaving Home

I’m in my room doing homework.
and I hear
raised voices in the kitchen,
glass shattering,
the radio being turned up,
footsteps on stairs,
wardrobe doors opening,
clothes hangers scraping on rails,
zipper on suitcase,
thud of case hitting wooden floor,
front door clicking shut,
wheels churning up gravel,
engine fading…

Silence…

Mum sobbing.
I can’t concentrate now.
My homework blurs, then smudges.
He didn’t even say, “Goodbye.”

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