A Lie for My Boy

I would’ve bet a heart could not ache anymore. But I was wrong.

There my boy sat, alone, waiting in that silent chapel for someone, anyone, to show up for his old man.

Danny gripped flowers. Even wore my favorite tie. The knot was tight, off-center.

That too was my fault.

I wished I could cry.

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What’s more inspiring than creativity? I write about our lives’ dance with it: Writing. Memoir. Fiction. Humor... I seek my Higher Self in the wonders of story.

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RGomez

RGomez

What’s more inspiring than creativity? I write about our lives’ dance with it: Writing. Memoir. Fiction. Humor... I seek my Higher Self in the wonders of story.