“I think that’s enough for tonight, Nobuo.” The young boy’s father had stood in the doorway for thirty minutes, moved by his son’s unwavering focus and diligence. He knew he would have continued through the night if he was allowed. “Just one more, daddy,” he responded, his tone respectful but determined. Nobuo turned his head to give an almost pleading look; his father simply nodded. “Lights out in five minutes.” The lum...
The living room television plays in the background as Sol inspects his son, Mikhail, one final time. He kneels down to polish his boots with the cuff of his sleeve till they shine. As he stands, he ensures the belt is secure and then moves around to the back. He attaches the cape and unfurls it. A shimmering golden cascade flows down almost to the ground. Sol turns Mikhail to face him and smiles with admiration. The royal...
"Yuval" Three in the morning A soft blue light emanated under the blanket. His father stared into the darkness at the tell-tale light And whispered, “Aren’t you asleep yet?” “Wait! I’m fighting the Klaxons,” Yuval whispered back. The twelve-year-old jinxed left and downward Avoiding a thorg and racked up survival points Passing safely through an asteroid belt When the sirens started blaring through the walls And the phone...
She came to me crying after the Holidays. Literally crying. She said she never felt so mistreated in her life. It felt like all she did was cook and clean the entire time the girls and their families were here. I spent so much time taking care of them that I didn't have time to enjoy them. They were never like this when they lived with us. Why are they doing this now? This was my cue to be fatherly and set things right b...
My story begins the day my father died. He was my friend,my mentor, but first and foremost my wonderful loving father. He tried to teach me all about the pains of the world. He would talk every day and he had the patience of Job. He could be funny and very strict. He had to be with 5 children, me being the oldest. We would watch baseball and the fights together.the other's were not as close to him as I was. At times even...
The sin of humanity is sharedNot EveNot AdamBoth sinned.I do not need an apology from either than to prevent the recurrence of that sinGod made man with the sole intention to rule and governGod made Eve not to deceive but to collaborate and make life work betterMan had its command They fell short with the weakness of a woman who brought forth from the hip of which man was the emblem replica of God who carved them into his...
“How much?” he asked the vendor pointing at the pile of tomatoes with an authoritative tone. “It’s 30 Rs a kilo, take it for 25 Rs” She says, as she arranges the pile of tomatoes, also luring the customer. “Too much, let’s go son,” without turning he walks slowly away from the vendor. I was watching thinking what’s going on here. He should have bought it. “Oh, don’t go away like that, say one more value,” she pleads with...
Over the past 14 years my friend has fought firstly to see his two boys (who at the start were 5 and 2.) Now he fights to keep the youngest attending a well-regarded Private school that he solely pays for. While the boys’ mother and stepfather have repeatedly removed him and now tell him he doesn’t need to go. The last time 2015 they removed him during his end of year exams so the youngest now has incomplete results. Also...
“Your father loves you.” My mother spoke for him, but he didn’t look up from his work, nor smiled. I never could understand what he was doing after dinner when occupied at the kitchen table in the evening. I assumed that it had something to do with his underpaid job as an operations manager of a grocery warehouse; second in command. Beermans were always second in charge. An uncle was assistant police chief and another unc...
Looking at a picture, you are captured in time.So long ago, it sends good chills up my spine. You toiled together to make the bare land go.Made a home, a place for your children to grow. I never had a chance to meet either of you.Searching for my roots made me feel blue. Two children, a boy who would become my dad.The other one, a pretty girl, my auntie you had. I have been to the place known as The Ranch.Proud I am, on y...
Story telling in both verse and prose What is in the Well? Chapter 1: Wooden Boy1 It's hard to say when it began My thoughts of being a boy My Master Carver built me I was his greatest joy Someone to share his life with To play with and enjoy The same to tell his stories to Not just another wooden toy Then something magical occurred It happened just like that Wink of eye and snap of finger And like a rabbit out of...
You went home to see your mum in January For a normal visitation and never returned. Now, five long months have passed and although we looked, you have remained gone. So today we went to court Trying to get you safely returned. The judge listened calmly at first However your mother did something stupid. She started mouthing off at the judge. so in the end they sent your mum to jail. The judge ordered that you were to come...
You asked me daddy to play it brave when you left for the war that day. I'm sorry but when I started to wave, an itty bitty tear gave me away. I tried to recover and wipe it away as you walked toward the plane. I tried really hard but what can I say my trembling lips gave me away. I stilled my lips and wiped my eyes but when you turned and waved to me, my body betrayed my brave disguise as everyone noticed my wobbly knee....
They were like no other: The gentle touch; the soft, comforting presence. They rested on my shoulders Only for a moment. But they felt like They were there for a lifetime. For those few moments they were there, I felt a comfort long forgotten by Many like me, many without a father, Without the father they know and love. I grasped those roughened hands- So large yet so loving- with both of my own- So small and tender besid...
I'm lying on the floor of our rec-room, watching cartoons. I'm about eight years old and this is pretty much all I do on a Saturday morning. I hear the front door slam, a familiar sound, and glance up only when I realize that my father is coming down the stairs of our split-level home. He peeks over the railing at me, and says, "Come on..." He is sweaty, and covered with grass clippings. His black curls have already begun...
