A Face In My Shade

Use to be, I thought that there was decency in the world; that a man died and then left everyone else alone. That was before I looked behind me and saw a familiar face in my shadow. It’s strange, as if someone took scissors to my umbra. Light pokes out and through the contrast I recognize the laugh lines, the smile, the teeth. My father is behind me at all times.

Most people would give their eye teeth to get a loved one back but that’s not precisely what I got. The face in my shade is in fact, just a shade of my father. This was my father’s face o’ ecstasy. This was a rare creature to be found on paydays that were after the electric and before the gas: jovial, childish, innocent. Drunk angry dad is not included,

The weird thing is, the face makes miss him just a little more. Maybe, that’s the point. Fine Dad, I miss you. Would you please take this back now? I’d like to miss you properly.

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