Remembering Julian








"Dad."

"Son."

Tiny cars on the street below. Sirens audible in the distance.

"It hurts."

"I know."

Clink of ice against the side of a glass.

"Did you..."

"Every night for months."

White-knuckled grip on the balcony balustrade. Long way to the ground.

"How did you survive?"

"By working non-stop."

Summer air thick and stifling. Cloudless sky, a perfect blue.

"Does it still hurt?"

A drop of rain on a down-turned face, caught by salt and pepper whiskers.

"Yes."

Ice clinking on glass again.

"Any fatherly pearls of wisdom?"

Another raindrop, dashed away.

"Love your older child even more, but don't distance yourself from him, like I did."

Fading footsteps on the marble balcony. Harsh exhale. Long way to the ground.

Tentative pad of soft-soled feet. Young hands wrapping around the balustrade.

"Dad."

"Son."

"It hurts."

Arm around thin shoulders. Rain from a clear summer sky.

"I know."



End


Send feedback