Another Wednesday, another flash fiction. Enjoy the story!
I stood with an arm around my wife’s shoulders as we waited at the city gates. The guard inspecting us stared between me and my wife. “He’s not your son.”
Not again. “He is my son.” I stared at the guard not turning toward Tom behind. Perhaps if I willed hard enough this one would get a clue and not make a fuss. Tragically, he wasn’t the brightest.
Tilting his head to the side he regarded us. “But he can’t be your son.”
“But he is my son.” I said the words more forcefully this time as I heard, and felt, Tom shuffling behind me.
“But how?” the guard said raising his hand to point.
A wordless string of sounds filled the air, silencing those nearby. I raised my own voice to be heard over quickly. “He was well fed.”
The guard took a step backward scowling when a hand clamped onto his shoulder arresting his movement. “That’s his son, sir?” the first guard said turning to look at who must have been his commander.
The commander took a moment to look between me and the man before looking at Tom behind me. “That’s your son?” he asked.
I nodded.
“You’ll keep him from causing problems?”
Another nod.
“Let them through.” The commander strode away before the guard could respond. I nodded my thanks as the man waved us past. Looking behind I gestured for Tom, the giant, to follow.
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