Tattered Little Father

I keep a photo of a stranger. I rescued him out of an estate sale cigar box. He looked the most like me. Yellowed, tattered, barebacked on the helm of the Claire de Lune. He’s always smiling at me, my dad. I keep the little grinning fisherman in my pocket. On long rides, I cradle him in my calloused hands. I tell him about that girl I left, the time I stole the Volvo, that fight with the guy at O’Malley’s. My smiling dad has no unkind word. I’m glad I chose this father; I almost chose one in a suit.

Photo Credit: Kim L.

6 Responses to “Tattered Little Father”

1. Jade says:

   January 14, 2022 at 8:58 pm

   I found this story back in 2018 and I come back for this story regularly. It’s beautiful.

   Reply
2. Michael says:

   October 13, 2017 at 9:59 am

   Beautiful

   Reply
3. Frank Hubeny says:

   July 20, 2017 at 2:36 am

   Nice story.

   Reply
4. Letina kelly says:

   June 14, 2017 at 7:17 pm

   Very smart and entertaining. I loved it!

   Reply
5. Junayd says:

   June 13, 2017 at 6:54 pm

   So so so deep. Very kind theme and words are awesome

   Reply
6. Tony Press says:

   June 13, 2017 at 2:45 am

   Excellent – not just a great idea (which it is!), but well told, too.

   Reply