The Runner Up,part 1

A windy morning,as the playful wind tickled my face,I woke up to my mother's singing.Her's was a voice of pure beauty.Usually,one would say that the voice would sound nice,or even magnificent,but mother's was truly one of unadulterated beauty.The lyrics of a song could only sketch a scene,but her voice painted them.The clearness of her voice this time sang of a poor old man knocking on death's door and his faithful old terrior.She sang with such sorrow,remorse and pain that I knew something horrible had happened.When I went into the kitchen to ask my mother about it,I saw tears of grief on her fair face and was struck with a sense of pure terror when she whispered to me,"Papa is gone."
Last evening,my father had left to fish,as was his job.I thought he had returned while I was sleeping,but that was not the case.I ran,ran,ran,to the hills,the sea and the sky for comfort of my loss.They were my friends,and one could always trust friends.







PART 1 Of The Runner Up,A short story.