His children didn’t notice the look in their father’s eyes that afternoon; the present is all they cared for.
Standing there, shriveled, he notices the cleaners didn’t put enough starch in his shirt; he needs the added back support these days – spineless, you see.
Like a mother’s lullaby in a foreign tongue
Her father stood up from his seat slowly until he towered over the Mayor whose head now reached no higher than the Butcher’s paunch. And like the volcano that created their island, he erupted…
Then she saw him, the veil of ignorance pulled back suddenly and with no warning.
There was no one to greet him when he got off, and while everyone was looking forward to the eager hugs and long-awaited kisses of loved ones, he looked back at the train that brought him to this point.