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Sunday is Father’s Day. Let this image be your guide and post your story, 100 words – no more, no less – in the comments.
I’ll start with a story
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When she said “I’m pregnant”, he froze. The next day he had driven half way across the county before something reached out and seized him as he stood at the pump putting close to his last $5 in the gas tank.
Just enough got him back. Just enough got him the courage to marry her, stick to a job and welcome the tiny being he had made and briefly thought to abandon.
He thought his life full until he stooped to hold the son of his son, blessing that day at the gas station and praying for just enough years.
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Now, your turn
My dog ran off, and so we chased.
Into the woods, Jack and I race.
A dreamlike world, nothing is clear.
Things disappear and reappear.
Nothing is lost, only misplaced.
The barking sound I thought I heard,
Was the flapping wings of a bird.
“Look over here, Jack,” I exclaim.
Confused, he says, “That’s not my name.”
My son says things that sound absurd.
Proud to be father of this lad,
I lose sad thoughts of what I had.
I say, “Listen for the dog’s cries.”
My boy looks at me and replies,
“We should go back and find my dad.”
Steven Fletcher says: I don’t know what I’m doing, never have. I try to teach him things: to tie his shoes, make his bed, clean up his plate –little things he’ll need to know. School is what I call it.
Here’s the thing, I don’t think he’s learning very much. Every day seems like we go over the same lesson again. But that’s not the reason I call it school. It’s not his school, it’s my school. Yesterday, he taught me children must be disciplined. Today, he’s teaching me dandelions are not edible. What I’m learning, really, is how to be a man.
James O'Connell says: What I remember most was how he could walk into a new place, and an hour or so later, he was best friends with half the room. Yet his favorite thing to do on vacation, was to find a quiet place, to just be quite. He liked thinking about the crap that people thought was important, while looking at the world through the drunken eyes of an Irish cynic.
He once told me that he would get out of bed a half hour before my mom, because he needed that time to wake up and be ready to think, perfect!
Dave says: It’s Thanksgiving and she’s feeling maudlin. I can tell by looking at her. The wine, used tissues, and photos give it away.
“Shannon, he’s half a world away,” I say, trying to head off her tears. “You know he couldn’t be here.”
“I know, it’s this picture. Every time I see it I remember how close I came to losing you both.”
I knew the picture and I remember the fire, that I accidentally started. I also remember Stan’s grin when he looked up at me and said, “I know, don’t tell mom.”
“Here,” she said, handing me the tissue.
guinspen 
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