He has always been stubborn. He was born that way. He came into the world and refused to be soothed or calmed down. His poor mother didn’t have another child thereafter despite her love of big families. He grew up to be a bully that ran a big fortune 500 company. He didn’t understand how others didn’t just believe he was a god.
His mom was on her death bed so he returned home for the weekend. He didn’t know what to feel other than anger and he didn’t know why.
His car was stalled by the animals. He couldn’t drive anywhere. He was afraid he would miss her last breath. He cried. He cried for the first time since his birth.
Categories: childhood, Culture, death, family, Psychology, writing, writing prompt
Another thought-provoking post. Wonderful, as usual!
Thank you 🙂 cheers