Tourists

While playing an invented game with Sarah on the swing, I ripped her from the seat. Though this was the object of the game, she fell funny, spraining her ankle. The blame for the subsequent cast, limp and general misery fell to me. During Sarah's healing, we visited Washington DC. But even the city’s pink blossoms in all their glory couldn’t lighten the family’s mood. I remember my parents cruelly telling me I ruined the trip by not smiling for the photos. I remember crying. I remember the forced grimaces. We stay home now, we can’t handle the tourist life.