We were destined to be apart.

I – Artist
Chapter Two – Who Got The Football?
After telling her infamous story about slamming my head on the floor in order to make me stop hitting my head on the wall, Rosemary went into her epic tale about our father giving my brother, Mark, the paints, and – I the football! That’s Mark being forced to put his arm around his baby brother. This is 1949, and I am three years old. I believe it is Easter, because I see a Easter Egg basket in his hand. I do not have one because Victor hated to buy us toys, and if he was forced to do so because it was that time of the year, then we had to share the one precious gift. When Rosemary brought me home from the hospital, my brother had a conniption fit. He threw himself on the floor and started banging…
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