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Father.
Where’d they gone?
‘
I watched the young man.
Dashing fella he
was
. Womaniser; as the youth say.
By 19 he’d married for the first time.
By 23 he’d moved on with another one.
By 25 it was another.
By 31, he no longer had enough energy.
‘
I watched the man.
I watched the door knob turn, as he imposed his presence
at the front. The boards creaked under his feet as he
paced back and forth, hysterically coughing into a stupor.
He fell on the floor with his face in his hands as he tried
to regain mobility. He was disgusted by he’d become.
Who he was.
He was not a farmer.
He was not a brother.
He was not a son.
He was not human anymore.
He would no longer waddle through the cornfields
searching for answers.
There was none left.
He’d given up.
There was nothing left to do.
‘
I watched the man.
I watched as he lit his last cigarette; struggling to breathe.
I watched as he threw it into the last remaining fields of
barren stalks; the ember still burning.
I watched as he crawled through the dust, feet lumbering
across the broken surface. His hands fumbled through his
pockets; he was looking for something.
I’d seen the glimmer of the lighter; I’d heard the flick of
the wheel, I’d felt his fear, I’d smelt the smoulder. I could
almost taste the helplessness the crackle of thunder
produced by the ferocity of fire.
He’d touched my heart.
Echoes In
My Mind
11