By Shaun McKenna
The swathes of long, yellowing grass outside the house swayed to the tune of the breeze. A broken window shutter dangled on one hinge—not clinging for life, but wishing to fall.
I hefted the stone in my hand, then pitched it through the living room window. The glass shattered, and the stone met the weathered oak bookcase—stuffed with the paperback Westerns he had hoarded in his later, frailer years—with a thud.
The wind kicked up, and I clutched my hat to my head. With my final farewell to my father delivered, I climbed back into the idling car.
“but wishing to fall.” What memories that house must hold. Well done.
I love the line, ‘not clinging for life, but wishing to fall’ – beautiful and made me wonder if that was the father’s final thoughts.
A shocking story. Well done.
A wonderful example of ‘less is more.’
Beautiful use of words with precision to move the feelings into motion.