Work Text:
—ten—
The age of ten was a rough age to lose a parent.
—any age was for a child—
But for Graham, ten was in the middle of things, six years away from some of the first formative years and six years away from the dream—his father ’s dream, now his.
“Just five more minutes…”
He wanted just five more minutes, and there didn ’t seem to be anything but the field and the ball, day in, day out, while his mother—
Mrs. Savoy moved on and became Mrs. Carter, except she didn ’t exactly move on.
And then—
Then came Henry, the favorite thing outside of football that was the size of a football when they first met, and then—
“Five more minutes,” Graham muttered, watching the tiny thing. “Then I’ll go to bed.”
Ulterion Mon 18 Nov 2024 10:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
Yemi Hikari (Yemi_Hikari) Wed 20 Nov 2024 05:23AM UTC
Comment Actions