My Stern Dad

My Stern Dad

written by: Jacob Maiva Kucheli

 

My Dad comes home every night with a Stern look on his face, overcome with the exhaustion of the day’s work. Furiously he walks across the cold tiles to his room, oftentimes with barely an echo resonating the whole house.

The moonlight escapes through the window lightening up the darkness that has consumed the room. A moment of silence follows, lasting for the tick of time before the chatter and laughter burst in.

As vivid memories of his tender rout remerge, woop and woop the strokes go, yet the hostility in his voice is ever so gentle.

Barely often does he assent to requisition but ever does he deny to compromise.

I look up to the sun and see the ray of sunlight, 15 years later with memories that seem to shape each curvy part of one’s verity…