Max Flynn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deplusenplus) wrote2011-12-08 01:02 pm
deplusenplus) wrote2011-12-08 01:02 pm
Entry tags:
charloft, 100 words -fool's errand
It’s not like he lives in Fort Knox. His fears have never been conventional ones. Papers on the doorstep, dark inside the place. Try the knob. Let myself on in.
It’s like a tomb.
Meticulous in its dark depths. No light anywhere, I let my eyes adjust as I make my way through. Find him in the bedroom, a mountain in bed under sheets and blankets. No sound. That means he’s not sleeping. He’s just lying. Big breathing.
“Dad,” he hears me. Sort of. He always hears me. Blood is blood. “Dad,” nothing. I get nothing.
Happy Birthday to me.
It’s like a tomb.
Meticulous in its dark depths. No light anywhere, I let my eyes adjust as I make my way through. Find him in the bedroom, a mountain in bed under sheets and blankets. No sound. That means he’s not sleeping. He’s just lying. Big breathing.
“Dad,” he hears me. Sort of. He always hears me. Blood is blood. “Dad,” nothing. I get nothing.
Happy Birthday to me.