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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1413829-the-boy
by Profit
Rated: E · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1413829
A boy and his father are alone, only each other...(NOT FINISHED)(In lowercase on purpose.)
the boy opened his eyes. he rolled over, and stared at the man sleeping next to him. he was restless. rolling over, and gasping. the boy reached out to wake him, but couldn't.

the boy quietly opened his pack. inside, things were running out. a little peanut butter, some powder that he liked to dip his finger into, it tasted like lemons, and a few cans were left. the boy looked quickly at the man, and stuck his finger in the powder. he brought it to his mouth, and sucked greedily. the boy was content.

the boy found the lighter in the mans pocket. he opened it, and clicked it a few times. the flame came then went again. the man moved a little.

dad?

yeah.
good morning.

is everything ok?

uh-uh.

good.

the boy was silent for a moment.

dad?

yeah?

can you work the lighter?

huh?

i can't make it work.

the man pulled himself up, and took the lighter from the boys hand. he opened it, and started it going.

where's the wood?

what wood?

what did you need the lighter for?

the boy was silent.

what did you need it for?

i just wanted to look at it.

the boy hung his head.

sorry.

the man didn't respond for a moment.

the man reached out, and touched the boys arm.

i love you.

the boy sniffled.

love you too.

the man got up and rolled his sleeping bag up and started to search for wood.

the boy stood up, and followed.

dad?

the man was reaching in a bush to grab a stick.

dad?

he turned around.

huh?

dad, are we going to die?

the man was silent.

eventually i guess. but not soon.

ok.

ok?

the boy shrugged his shoulders.

yeah. that's it.

the man looked incredulously at the boy. he picked up another stick, and continued the hunt for wood, the boy following.

they headed back to their camp. the boy dropped his wood on the remnants of their last fire and crossed his arms. the man knelt down by the wood, and moved it around. he clicked the lighter and started the fire. he blew softly on the flame. the fire crackled and spit and it lit the kindling on fire. satisfied, the man fell back onto the ground.

the boy sat down.

dad?

yeah?

what happened?

what do you mean?

the boy was silent.

why are we here?

the man looked at the boy, and pursed his lips.

i don't know. it doesn't matter, we're here aren't we?

the boy smiled slightly.

yeah.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1413829-the-boy