"Punishment"

“Punishment” -- A Peggy Scribble
By Michael Kroetch

Dad didn’t like us calling Mom a vegetable. But everybody else does, Peggy said. Who? When Peggy wouldn’t answer he told her to go outside. This was his way. He made us sit on the porch when we didn’t obey. We couldn’t read or eat or sing or do a puzzle or draw or talk or balance on the rail or do headstands, jumping-jacks, or sit-ups or anything. We could sit. That was it. Sit and stare at whatever was out there, which was usually nothing. The house next door was what I watched. They always sat there looking back, only they were colored blue so I knew they weren’t really looking at me. They were somewhere else in their heads, wherever it was their TV had taken them.