My father was a brute force that imprinted on each person he crossed. He had a narrow mouth but a nasty vernacular. His eyes were dark and rounded, yet he could stare someone down a mile away. His stature was shorter, but his shadow covered others heavy and dark.
When I was little, I never talked back to my father. His tongue was always quicker than mine. He didn't need to use his hands to knock someone down; his words were sharp and poignant. I'd stare in awe at his rage at the world. I felt sorry for him. I was too young to fully grasp how bitter the world was. He was my first glimpse into that truth.
There was the day of my grandfather's funeral. My father wore a dark suit with large shoulder pads. He hung his head low next to his grave with a quivering scowl. My mother rested an assuring hand on the hunch of his spine. I fixated on the men carrying my grandfather's coffin to his appointed slot. I wondered how I'd feel when it came time for my own father.
Once at home, I peered through the crack of my parents' bedroom's door. I couldn't see his eyes by the shadow of his flat cap. But, I saw my father's hands neatly folded on his lap as he hunched his shoulders and croaked. It was ugly and vulnerable. My dad appeared as a strong, secure man, yet, in that moment, I saw his undeniable weakness. Suddenly, he didn't scare me so much anymore. I merely pitied his disdain.
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Short Stories/Orginal
Fiksi UmumThese are all stories I came up with, some are finished and some aren't. I may complete some later on, maybe. You may notice my writing has more description than plot, I do that on purpose to give a poetry yet still story effect on my writing. I'm o...
