Picture: old dock, Search word: hate
----Start short story:-----
Taylor looked at the old dock. He hated that dock. He hated everything about that dock. Yet, he felt drawn here after his father's funeral. He didn't really understand why, he just knew he had to go. And here he stood, staring at this place where he spent so much of his younger years with his dad. His dad, oh, his dad.
The man was an enigma, or at least Taylor felt his was. His father was diagnosed with cancer when Taylor was just a newborn, and yet this man went on to have 5 more kids and live 12 more years. Who lives 12 years with "terminal" cancer? But that is just the type of man his father is, or was.
Was, a word loaded with so much meaning. Was, not is. Was, the past. Was, his father. Taylor had known his whole life that his father was dying. He knew his father wouldn't be at his wedding, wouldn't walk his little sister down the aisle, wouldn't be there to watch him pitch the opening game for the Atlanta Braves. But even though he knew, it was still abstract. And now, now it isn't. Now his father is a was, not longer an is.
As Taylor stood at the old dock that he hated, he knew he would be back. Something drew him there, something made him feel more there than he had in the last week since his father died. Something told him that he would be back. Taylor turned to go back to the house, taking in the old dock he hated he smiled. Yes he hated that dock.
----End short story-----
Word count: 272
Well that was a little more depressing than I meant it to be, and it was really short, but hopefully you enjoyed the impromptu story.
Until next time!
photo credit: 'Ajnagraphy' via photopin cc
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