Bi-Fold: A Short Story
Seeing my father as a wallet was a bit strange. Even now, decades after first glimpsing his altered state, I find the matter almost unbelievable. It should be a fantasy. A curious dream that I occasionally relay to friends and laugh about. But the reality is far more bizarre. My father, once tall and athletically built, a person who would fashion rue flowers into elaborate wreaths as gifts for my mother, had transformed into a brown, bi-fold wallet. As a child, when I looked at my father, there was a sense of comfort knowing that he could protect me. Now all I feel is regret that his days are spent at the bottom of a drawer.