Short and SweetMature

A collection of short stories, or should I say that I hope it will be a collection some day.

 

Story I

A Father's Embrace

 

Tonight of all nights, she should have stayed home. The baby had to be taken care of, the cat had to be fed, and Aunt Shaila was in town. She should have known better than to just call him and tell him to reach home pronto. He wasn't her slave now, was he? No sir, he wasn't. She should have had her boy toy at her beck and call, not him. He was so furious that his mind could not even frame the correct words describing his anger. Sometimes he wished he could kill her, and that too with his bare hands. Her throat, all smooth and white, his hands, all rough and callous. That was the dream. If only he had the guts to carry out what he had dreamed of the past ten years. If only he could.....

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud scream of a baby from across the hallway. He had managed to avoid his elderly house guest by tiptoeing around the living room, and had hoped to reach his room without ado. But Sarah had different plans. Like always. He turned the knob of the nursery door softly and peeked into the dimly lit room. He could see her kicking her tiny legs in the air and screeching her lungs out. Where any person would see a beautiful baby girl calling for her father's warm embrace, he only saw a baby that was the bane of his existence. Correction : Another bane of his existence.

He went over to the cot and peered into the clear blue eyes of his daughter, Sarah. Or was she mine? Shaking his head at the thought he moved closer to her. The tuft of silvery blond hair formed a halo around her face and accentuated the rosiness of her features. But he could only hear her piercing screeches, and see her flailing limbs. He felt his anger for Michelle permeate through his very being and cascade onto the spawn of their so-called love. He wrung his hands together, forcing himself to subdue the itch to wrap his fingers around her pink neck and...

Instead, he picked her up and into his embrace. Cooing softly, he cuddled her and breathed deeply in her baby scent and patted her blond curls. He then cradled her in his arms and sung her favorite lullaby, swaying her along with the rhythm and lulling her back to sleep. Successful in his endeavor, he whistled as he gently lay her back into her cot and covered her with her snug 'Hello Kitty' fleece blanket.

Tucking her in properly, he stood back at admired his perfect daughter slumbering peacefully. A peck on the forehead, a finger down the curve of her soft cheek, a slightly longer pause of his hand near her throat, and then he turned towards the door of the nursery.

"Hello, Aunt Shaila. I didn't see you standing there. I just put Sarah to sleep. Come, let's rummage for something to eat. I'm starving, aren't you?"

As the door creaked shut, the baby lay still as a slab of ice in her cot. The breeze played with her soft curls and a beatific smile glowed on her face while her breath refused to leave her tiny body.

The End

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