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It was said so quietly that Sean almost didn’t catch it, but Dad’s whisper was heard over the gunshots in the sky, over Daniel’s gleeful shouts, over the sizzle of the sparklers. The remnants of fireworks, streaking reds, whites, and blues, were so wonderfully vibrant in his father’s eyes as he watched over the two of them, still smiling and alive.
“These are for you, my sons. My everything.”
or: sean and daniel on the day of the border crossing, and the hours after it.
Bookmarked by coldkitt
04 Dec 2024