He was dancing the enchanting dance of resurrection: Resurrection of his father.

His noble father that had told him everything: how to hunt, how to dress, how to speak, how to love. He was waving his arms frantically above his head as had been told when stranded. Stranded with no food, no shelter, no companion.

He pointed towards the only thing familiar to him: a round weathered ball with the threads worn out and its surface dull. He looked pleased as he glanced towards its vicinity - almost relieved even - as if it was the only thing tying him to his idolized father, and had been searched for as long as he had been searching for closure since that day... He missed him so much that he took no contest in partaking in this pointless ritual with his nemesis: the man.

The man that took his mother's hand in marriage and brought him to life. Also, I ripped his Playstation out of his room to remind him how daylight looks like. Now go fetch the ball, or you'll never see that thing again!

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Pustevis (joined over 11 years ago)

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Story information

License

Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0

genres

parenting relationships

tags

relationship parenting confiscate anti-social neglect

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