William Saroyan

The quarrel picked up the minute my father got home from work at Graff’s, where he was a forty-seven-year-old assistant—to everybody.

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A LONG TIME AGO when I was eleven my mother and my father had a prolonged quarrel.

The quarrel picked up the minute my father got home from work at Graff’s, where he was a forty-seven-year-old assistant—to everybody

A LONG TIME AGO when I was eleven my mother and my father had a prolonged quarrel.

The quarrel picked up the minute my father got home from work at Graff’s, where he was a forty-seven-year-old assistant—to everybody.

A LONG TIME AGO when I was eleven my mother and my father had a prolonged quarrel.

The quarrel picked up the minute my father got home from work at Graff’s, where he was a forty-seven-year-old assistant—to everybody