The great thing about being involved in a writing contest is that you get to meet, read, and amplify the voices of  talented writers! Here at SRP, we love vivid and emotional writing that takes risks. I was very excited when the 2018 SWFFP judge Julia Rios selected this piece by Laura McGehee as an honorable mention. The innovative format fits the theme so well! Enjoy… 

It Took Adrienne Ninety-Seven Minutes to Write This Email

Dear Dad,

Hello!

Hi!

Hey, there. Greetings from the house in the mountains that you’ll never visit

A snowy hello from me and my wife who you still refer to as my “friend” and yes, she is my friend but we also have sex and file our taxes jointly and last summer we even fostered a stray cat until we found her owner through a combination of print and online advertising but for six days I got to experience what it meant to be a mother and now I can imagine a future in which I have children who will also never know you

Warm regards from Sacha and me. I wanted to reach out and say:

Happy birthday!

Happy birthday.

Happy birthday!

Happy birthday.

Thank you for instilling in me a deep-rooted distrust of authority figures that it has taken my entire adult life and thousands of dollars in therapy bills to deconstruct

bailing on my wedding even though you RVSP’d for salmon, which is quite expensive especially because we ordered that organic wild-caught Sockeye from Alaska

sending me money twice a year

all that you do. I hope that your 63^rdyear is when you confront the demons that have led you to a lifetime of prescription painkillers and alcohol dependence

when you finally grapple with the crushing reality that you do not know your children or yourself

not your last, though considering the shit you’ve done to your body and mind I can’t pretend I haven’t thought about what I would wear to your funeral, does this make me a bad person

Great. Sending ambivalence wrapped in the recognition that you are responsible for my existence

a recipe for roasted brussel sprouts I tried and enjoyed last night so that I can pretend we have a carefree and enriching relationship

an enumerated list 203 accounts long detailing my grievances with you since birth

positive vibes your way. Give my best to

the whiskey you hide in the garage

our genetic predisposition for Alzheimer’s

your new wife who looks too much like Mom

the crew back east.

Love,

Best,

Cordially yours,

-Adrienne

Laura McGehee used to live in a normal city doing normal human things, but then she spent four months walking from Georgia to Maine. This was decidedly less normal. She currently lives and works at a remote wolf sanctuary in Colorado where she teaches visitors about the importance of keeping wild creatures wild. Her writing can be found scattered across the web, in her mother’s scrapbooks, and everywhere in between.