Steph Liberatore

Word Count 144

Ever since your father died, you’ve had trouble explaining how it happened to people. He had an accident, you said at first. But then people asked if it was a car accident, and you had to back up and try again. He was electrocuted, you learned to say next, but then, people’s faces fell so quickly you wished you hadn’t said anything at all. 

You still haven’t settled on a response, sixteen years later. 

Sometimes you say: He was electrocuted while trimming a mulberry tree under a powerline.

Sometimes you say: He was a moron who caused his own death. Did I mention he was using a metal pole saw when it happened?

Sometimes you say: He was a victim. Those power lines were far too low. We should have sued the power company.

Sometimes you say nothing, but smile, and change the subject.

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Steph is a writer and professor in the English Department at George Mason University, where she earned her MFA in Creative Nonfiction. Her essays have appeared in River Teeth, Cream City Review, Inside Higher Ed, and elsewhere.