The kerchief was stiff with salt, sweat, and machine oil. She pressed it to her face.
It was him, alright. Not much of a dad. Always working, drinking, fighting, womanizing. Never home.
He couldn’t make her bedtime, but could always make her laugh.
She breathed him in one last time.
Paul D’Arcy tells stories. All real. Most brief. You can read more at pauldrc.com.
Powerful, and every word contributes. Kudos!
Thank you, Shoshauna!
‘He couldn’t make her bedtime but he could always make her laugh’ perfectly sums up a certain kind of person. Xx
True stories are the easiest (and hardest) to tell, aren’t they, Joanna?
Thank you for your feedback ☺️
Sweet ending. Really enjoyed this story!
Thank you, Kay Rae 🙏
I like how the characters are humanly drawn with their contradictions and mixed bag of emotions. Fifty words that deftly make us join the dots to delve into a lifelong (and beyond) relationship, warts and all.
Thank you, Amanda 🙏. We are all walking contradictions, aren’t we? ☺️
Love your stories, Paul. Richly layered, insightful, moving. 🙏🏼
Gosh, thank you, Gabe.
Your “Images of You” story is a work of art – breathtakingly beautiful ❤️
Thank you 🙏
Beautiful, real and RAW!
Thank you 🙏
Beautiful gut punch.