By Jennifer L. Freed
He was not the kind of brother who rode bikes with me, or built forts. Not the kind to tease or joke or guess my thoughts. He understood asteroids, hypergalaxies, black holes, but not a human face.
I remember public playgrounds, walking home with him from school, how the other kids would whisper and avoid us both. I remember growing older, thinking his shadow would always swallow mine.
I remember moving to a new town, my first day of third grade, when I could pretend I didn’t know him. Three decades later, I still feel his eyes on my cold shoulder.
Moving story with a killer last line.
powerful and honest
A wonderful character study. And I agree with Stephanie: The last line is a killer!
Thank you to all three of you. It’s fiction, but based on a few grains of truth. I appreciate your comments and am glad you liked it.
Thank you to all three of you. It is fiction, but based (as I guess all fiction is) on an aspect of truth. I’m thankful for your comments and am glad you liked this story.
This is fantastic! I loved it.
His shadow would always swallow mine. Wish I had written that!
You had me surprised at the end. Nice touch.
Love the last line!
Thank you to all of you. So good of you to take time to comment. I’m glad the last line resonates.
Thoughtful and thought provoking. Great.