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.
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.
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