There were two thousand red bricks that made up the front facade
of the high school I would eventually drop out of. I counted them
on a daily basis, as I waited for my step-dad to come pick me up after
class. Some days when he was on a roll at the races or the casino,
I counted them twice and three times. I loved knowing that whatever
loss befell us, as a result of daddy’s crippling dance with chance,
there would always be two thousand red bricks on the wall
to keep me counting on something.