A knock at the window pulls me from dreams. The balcony over the back lawn, the ground rushing up. My brother cradling me, turning to take the earth.
I set up, covered in the fear of that day. Sweat freezing in the cold night.
The chill of what came after—the heartache of surviving. A child in the shoes of the man who sacrificed.
Another knock. I rise from the bed, move closer, pull the shades. I greet the shape floating there. He kisses my cheek. Whispers, “A thousand times.”
A tear falls.
He catches it before it hits the floor.
Here’s a 100 Word Story in response to the Friday call from the amazing,
.Photo by Ensar *: https://www.pexels.com/photo/brown-wooden-house-11567726/