For the longest moment the world stopped, the air became thick and the branch creaked. I watched the legs twitch, urine ran freely from the bottom of his trouser legs and there was a splash from the shoe that flipped and bounced off the lawn.
Not a sound could be heard inside our home, until the tick, click and roar of the boiler made me jump, the noise I thought a Dragon would make.
For the longest time, my toys gathered dust on the bedroom floor. My eyes looked like some others eyes, a blank stare looked back from the mirror.
I lay in my bed each night, listening, a soft mewing noise from a kitten we didn’t have came from Mummy’s room. Scared, I crept barefoot in damp pyjamas to her door. Peeping through the crack I could see her, wrapped in her own arms, her face puckered and wet, she groaned, and rocked.
Our house was sad. It had dirtied our garden, took my childhood and changed our world, the day it stole my Dad.
© 2016, Ellen Best. All rights reserved.
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