“Memories – The People Go On Singing: as told by Charles J. Goulding” by Michael Koh

We were young when our father was dragged on the back of a horse-driven cart through the town square as men and women jeered at his semi-conscious form while we hid from the crowd high above the ground because they would have beaten us and we feared for our lives for our father was arrested for murder and theft and yet he was not executed on the spot but tortured and humiliated as an example for everyone in town and we cried in silence and prayed that he die a quick and shameless death but instead our father clung to his pathetic life and endured it all because he was a giant of a man and a smart man but he broke down soon after our mother died from a hereditary disease and I cannot help but feel that my sister and I will die as she did too and my father out of grief and love and anger and fury and madness killed the doctor who had tried to help our mother and stole everything in the doctor’s house in the middle of the day no less and he was caught immediately after and he was put on trial within the hour and sent into the bowels of hell and stripped of any dignity he had left and our father was left naked and strapped to the back of the cart and dragged through town as our neighbors and friends threw objects at his body and I looked and looked for his once fiery eyes but I could not see the fire that once kept him going anymore and I knew then that it was our mother that had helped him live his life and that our mother was his life and I broke down on the attic floor as my sister stared out the cracks only to see my father bite iron and the people cheer.


Profile: Michael Koh

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