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Weekly Contest #369
I did not cry when my grandfather died. It was early afternoon, and I had just come home from school, where we celebrated our classmate’s 11th birthday by sharing chips and other snacks, when my father broke the news. “Granddad died this morning in the hospital. His organs failed,” he told me quietly while I was untying the laces on my new purple sneakers. I froze and looked up at him. Father’s eyes were red, and when a single tear ran across his cheek, I felt something in me stir uncomfortably. I had never seen him show emotion – a man wit...
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