8.24.2013

Son - Microfiction

The old man comes walking in. Pain and age with him.

The boy sits at his his seat and looks up.

"Son, I am here to kill you..."

"Now, what the hell --"

BAM!

The old man stands there.

"Son, I told you I was here to kill you. I did not come to talk with ya or pontificate my reasons."

The old man walks out.

Labels: ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home