↳ 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴

xxix.

daddy came knocking on our front door early one morning.

momma, wrapped in a bathrobe with knotty hair tossed into a bun and groggy eyes, answered the door.

i stood around the corner and watched silently as momma poured daddy a cup of black coffee with a teaspoon of sugar, just the way he liked it.

you remembered? daddy questions, and i swear i see sadness somewhere far off in the distance behind his eyes.

momma grunts a response and tightens the robe around her stomach, crossing her arms and sitting begrudgingly across the table from daddy.

how've you been? daddy questions.