Loris Nattrass
Thursday, May 23, 2019

She never knew her father. Mother said very little—only that he was from the city and left during her pregnancy. She had to meet him and had many questions. She ate a last forkful of pizza, rinsed her silverware and hailed a cab.

His last fare of the day was over, and he was tired. After dropping her off, her grabbed a knife and fork and dug into his pizza.