He reached his hand out to me. I took his little dirty hand into, in contrary, my clean hand.
It was like I could feel the anxiety in his veins. I felt his heartbeat.
Again, I tried to look into his eyes. He was staring at the ground.
The ground was all gravel, no grass at all.
Before I could put by car key in my pocket, he embraced me.
He didn't come off.
For a few minutes I smelt his body smell. For a few seconds I saw the flies in his hair.
I didn't care. It felt like I was his father.
Probably he never got love. Probably he had no father to cuddle with.
I decided to be a father for three minutes and forty-nine seconds.
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I saw his face #English
Short StoryJoe wanted to travel the world. He visited places he never saw in reality. He wanted to make memories. He wanted to taste new food, to be part of a new culture for a few days and to find some inspiration for the books he wrote at home. He thought he...
