Gentrified
The money came from Pederson and Company, a rising New York publishing house that specializes in Reality Fiction. It came in droves, as though our pockets were the bottomless catch-basin of a giant, laughing slot machine. From the day we'd begun publishing Mom's journals we'd hardly known what to do with all the money. Now we can afford Dad's new  teeth, which he's been drinking luck to since the accident took them away. We all have new homes and cars, my two sisters and me. We have a "compound," like the Astor's or the Kennedy's, where we can pitch our roof any way we want. All I can say is that I'm sure glad my Dad never learned to read.

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Humbert
Short Story
Satire
writing Humbert
I like literary fiction and hysterical realism.
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Synopsis
Poor Dad.
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