It’s Saturday in the evening of a lost date. There’s a man walking by the hand of two kids. A boy and a girl. He walks straight, firm grip in his hand and slow, but secure steps. She manages some little duck steps, and tends to waffle everywhere. The man lets loose of both his hands. The girl is about to fall, but the boy grabs her by the hand, ready to lift her. The little girl smiles to his brother, the little boy, who answers her smile by squeezing her hand.
The man, father of both kids nods; he then crouches until he is more or less at the boy’s height.
-“Do you know what home is?”- He asks the boy, to what he answers, -Our house-.
The man looks like he’s meditating for a second, -“And where’s our house?”- He asks then.
Even thought their home is just some feet away, and he can see her mother in the porch he intuits that pointing there is not the right answer.
The man observes that the little boy is struggling, and has no answer, to what he smiles ruefully. He then takes the girl in his arms and leaves the boy behind, still wondering.
“Where’s our home?”
YOU ARE READING
Home
Mystery / ThrillerTwo brothers find themselves alone, for so long now, and so non-existent for the rest of the world that eventually, even their names are forgotten. A story of a fight for survival and how to make your voice rise among the others. A story of forgotte...
