Osbaldo deleon
Stories (1/0)
Under fluorescent lights
“Love is sacrifice… you have to put yourself aside” my uncle said as he repositioned himself on his decades old caramel-colored leather chair. The phrase is the only thing that resonated with me for some reason so I wrote it down. I suddenly realized this is the only composition of words in this notebook. They danced and seemed electric in my uncles pastoral office. One bulb was on its last leg and the flickering made the faux wood paneling- which was decades older than the chair- come to life with faceless orbs and oscillating tree rings. “Do you hear me boy?” I suddenly looked up with the intent of presence. “Yes Sir” I said. “Daydreaming is not going to make this process any faster and certainly not going to set you on the path to salvation boy.” I hated when he called me boy. So condescending for a 17 year old and most likely a power move on his part. Suddenly a section of the paneling cracked open and I thought I was hallucinating from the last 20 minutes of this spastic fluorescent bulb. “Sister Barbara really wants you to meet her grandson.” my aunt said poking her head in with a soft and cautious voice. “Oh alright, I guess we're done here and I'm starving!” grunted my uncle as he fixed his tie and gave me a look that made me feel like an adolescent.
By Osbaldo deleon 3 years ago in Humans