*NOTE*
I'm starting a new serial story. Enjoy


Today's Word: Atomized


They said daddy was atomized, smeared across the cosmos like a thin paste of jam. I was eight years old.

Faster than light travel was within our grasp, all the news programs said so. We moved from Greensboro to Pensacola so dad could compete for test pilot slots in the new ISEO (International Space Exploration Organization). I didn't want to go. All my friends were in North Carolina, so I stayed in my tree house, keeping so silent my nostrils sounded like a clogged vacuum. When dad found me he boxed my ears till they bled. I had made us late and put the movers behind schedule.