Flash Fiction: My Father Was a Giant
Image by Joey Solomon
Writing by Emma Elizabeth Mathes
Photo Edited by Ari Adams
He isn’t dead, but my days with him are over. So, I will speak in past-tense about a man who still lives.
When I knew him, he stood 4 feet taller than me. He had dark coarse hair and a beard that scratched my delicate cheeks when he kissed them.
I liken him to a superhero. He’d come by on weekends and take me away on adventures.
Once, he took me to the beach. While I played in the sand, he sat on the rocks. Waves would hit the shoreline and I feared he’d be sucked away. Looking back, the feeling was foreboding.
