Stories for The Bradbury

Daughter

The old man tapped his cane along the cobblestones along Victoria Street, rushing to the best of his ability to the little shop along the Grassmarket where his life began.

Peeking into the large display window, he smiled as the memories of his little girl washed over him like the glow of the street lamp.

She'd been right there, beside the candy floss display near the register. Soon, she'd headed out the door and stood on the sidewalk, holding a package of candy floss in bright neon hues.

"I've been looking for you. Want to see my new kitten? I was hoping you'd name him for me." The man had never seen the girl before, but children are easily fooled into believing they know you if you say the right things.

The girl studied him with large, trusting eyes before nodding and stepping closer.

"It's a secret, okay?" He explained as they hurried off down the busy street. "Like a game."

He'd explained the game, and she responded through a mouthful of fluffy candy. If only he could have done a few things differently, maybe chosen a younger child, or a boy perhaps?

He stared through the window, all these years later, and remembered life with his daughter. A child had been all his wife had wanted, but she’d left soon after he’d given her one. Six years later, his beloved daughter had run away, leaving him all alone.

He stood there to remember. To feel all the lost feelings, sometimes he thought about starting over, choosing another.

He exhaled and felt his age. His feet ached on the uneven cobblestones.

No. He headed home alone, wondering if he remembered to buy some more rat poison. He supposed, in a pinch, a spare grocery sack would do the trick.