Last Christmas Eve, while I was trying to keep a man alive under fluorescent lights at Inova Fairfax, my ten-year-old daughter was standing in the corner of my in-laws’ dining room in a red velvet dress with a cardboard sign hanging from her neck. By the time I got there after midnight, the ham was gone, the dishes were clean, and the only thing left in that house was my child on a loveseat with swollen eyes and two words written across her chest in thick black marker.
Na Vánoce moji tchánovi ponížili mou desetiletou dceru tím, že ji donutili nosit ceduli s nápisem „rodinná ostuda“ a stát…