    presence and its stability, always showing them the way home. A
feeling welled up in his chest. It was like he was inflating and the sky
was lifting him up. He couldn’t name the feeling but he loved it. It
was like the stars were calling to him. Like he belonged there, but
was stuck here on Earth.
Stuck in a miserable life, in a miserable town, with a miserable
family.
He shook his head. No point in worrying too much about it. It
would only depress him.
Someday. Someday I won’t feel so helpless. Someday I’ll be my
own man, setting my own path in my own life. Someday I won’t
have to put up with bullies, and school, and a brother who hates me
and parents who don’t care for me despite what they say.
*
On Sundays, Fintan usually helped his mother with shopping for
groceries at the local market. Fintan Senior, his father, would usually
sleep off his hangover from the night before. For the afternoon,
Fintan would stay out of the house, wanting to avoid Father’s temper,
and would take a walk down to the cliff tops nearby.
It was a land of bleak beauty, with the roar of waves crashing
below, and the bare limestone rocks peeking out of a deep green
covering. He always liked to come here to sit and think. To the west
he could see the sun setting, and the growl in his stomach told him it
was getting late.
He returned home to find dinner in the microwave.
An empty package stood on the dinner table. It was addressed to
him, but his parents had opened it. He sighed, not surprised. Of
course they would disrespect his privacy. Of course.
Mother came into the kitchen. She ran to hug him. “Oh here you
are,” she said.
Fintan held up the empty package. “What’s this?”
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