An hour before, I drew back the white sheet, surprised his tattoos remained on his body. I expected the bicep eagle tattoo to flap and lift, the inked snake, to slither off his calf, exiting.
The day Dad died, I drove to Hampton Cremation, heading the wrong way down a rainy Houston toll-road. I was a fatherless child. On CD, CCR sang, “Who’ll Stop the Rain?” I sobbed large tears for the saddest question ever. I cried for me, for Dad, whom I hadn’t seen in eight years, who drove himself to the hospital with a heart attack then died.
An hour before, I drew back the white sheet, surprised his tattoos remained on his body. I expected the bicep eagle tattoo to flap and lift, the inked snake, to slither off his calf, exiting.
Sue Clayton
6/8/2022 05:42:50 am
No goodbye, or time-made up, so the rain will never stop.
Sandra James
6/8/2022 09:32:37 am
You really conveyed the sadness well, Nicole, and I love the ending. I could imagine the surprise at seeing the tattoos still there and the idea of them exiting. Well done 🐍 Comments are closed.
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