A Story about a son.

[msatty99]

Maybe you would like to read this. It is a story I wrote.

http://gawnews.com/?p=5497

[Angry Dragon]

1. You should post a bit of it so it is not a blind link

[msatty99]

2. good point.

The family had moved to the end of the island when the son was already fully grown. Their’s was the only residence on that end of the island. A long gravel path led to the house which sat in a clearing on the bluff back from edge which looked out over the gray sea.

Further down at the tip the ocean currents from the east met the waters from the western side of the island and the surf there churned and chewed and no one swam or boated there. It was called ‘the washing machine’.

The father was reticent. He did not speak at breakfast. During the working day his only words were to give a brief flat order. He was not unkind. He was merely spare. Like a piece of the driftwood that washed ashore down on the brown sand beach at the bottom of the bluff which rose fifty feet or more from the shore. The father did not reveal whether he was pleased, or saddened or satisfied or worried. His work was quiet and skilled. He did not remark on it. He did not say, “I feel it went well today”. He did not say, “I had trouble getting it right today”. But he did not place his burden, whatever it was or his joy, however current felt, upon the mother or the son. He did not impose anxiety.

(click link above to read the rest of the story)

[msatty99]

3. someone recommended. Hey. Thanks.

[Dystopian]

4. You're very welcome...

You have a gift....
A wordsmith ...
I could feel and see your story...



peace~