Daddy
A Excerpt:
He looked, searching, into her deep blue eyes and watched his own reflection change, distort, twist itself into a memory whirling in the inky depths.
She was tiny, small, alone...yet apparently no younger than as he knew she was now. Her figure was small and slight, her hair flipped over her shoulder in the untidy perfect flow he loved so well.
She stood, leaning her weight on her elbow, her nose pressing against the glass, forming a round vapour of condensation on the clear glass, her lips leaving a small imprint against it.
No one else was in the room, but he could hear murmurs from the next.
A quiet, choked noise caught his attention, and he looked to see tears running in shiny floods down her cheeks.
One word only escaped her lips, and that word she repeated over and over.
Somehow, as he looked down into her eyes, he could see the reflection of the little girl who still stood at the window, hurting inside. Their expression, through the pretense of valiant bravery and the swagger she always put on, betrayed through the glass walls the bewildered fear, the pain and the confusion still deep within.
Even as she briefly smiled, gave him a quick hug and walked away silently, he could still hear the sobbing, muttered word she'd repeated echoing in the stillness.
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy..."
The cry of a little girl for a man gone forever, that she'd never truly had, who had rendered himself more dead in life than death could have ever made him.
Jane Johnson
04/05/11
He looked, searching, into her deep blue eyes and watched his own reflection change, distort, twist itself into a memory whirling in the inky depths.
She was tiny, small, alone...yet apparently no younger than as he knew she was now. Her figure was small and slight, her hair flipped over her shoulder in the untidy perfect flow he loved so well.
She stood, leaning her weight on her elbow, her nose pressing against the glass, forming a round vapour of condensation on the clear glass, her lips leaving a small imprint against it.
No one else was in the room, but he could hear murmurs from the next.
A quiet, choked noise caught his attention, and he looked to see tears running in shiny floods down her cheeks.
One word only escaped her lips, and that word she repeated over and over.
Somehow, as he looked down into her eyes, he could see the reflection of the little girl who still stood at the window, hurting inside. Their expression, through the pretense of valiant bravery and the swagger she always put on, betrayed through the glass walls the bewildered fear, the pain and the confusion still deep within.
Even as she briefly smiled, gave him a quick hug and walked away silently, he could still hear the sobbing, muttered word she'd repeated echoing in the stillness.
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy..."
The cry of a little girl for a man gone forever, that she'd never truly had, who had rendered himself more dead in life than death could have ever made him.
Jane Johnson
04/05/11
:( That made me want to cry. Beautifully written Janey.
ReplyDeleteThank you. :) Glad you liked it! I was thinking of somewhere in Snapshots, maybe.
ReplyDelete