Image Rochelle Wisoff-Field
He died on a Friday morning as the sun was beginning to escape from behind the clouds; some said it was his wife checking whether he was joining her yet because he always kept her waiting and was never on time. Those he left behind never did feel the same again, they didn’t realise how much of a big part on their lives he was and the gap he would leave. After the tears had been poured and the pain dulled the memories would still live on they said, as they lowered my father and my hero into the ground.
‘He died’ Was written for Friday Fictioneers. A weekly 100 word story challenge inspired by a photo prompt. Hop over to Rochelle’s blog for instructions on how to join in.