Earl Grey

Here is a sad story or is it?

Dave beamed at the newly decorated room and freshly polished floor. He patted little Stevie on his sandy mop of hair while sipping his earl grey.

“I think we have done an amazing job lad. Couldn’t have done it without you”

Dave and Stevie did a synchronised 360 degree turn, slapped themselves on the back and for no apparent reason belly giggled till tears rolled.

“Bugger! There’s a finger mark around the light switch. Hold my tea while I take the buffer machine downstairs and bring back up some paint. Don’t spill any” He laughed.

“OK.”  He delicately clasped the mug and stood patiently for his return. Only too happy to be given any task his new foster father gave him.

Stevie put the crash in the kitchen down to Millie the cat knocking something off the table again.

He was counting the tocks from the clock in the hallway, losing track at 549. He called out.

“Dad!” He was ecstatic when he was first told he could call him that.

His arm started to ache and hand tremble. The room was getting dark.

The fear of spilling the tea and being shouted at, although Dave never had, overwhelmed him. He was the best dad he’s ever had. His tears dripped off his chin and splashed onto the shiny parker floor to join the ones of joy.

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