a cure for the common block


Regina couldn’t count the number of times her father pointed to his hair and told her that each grey strand came from “things like this”; in this particular case “this” referred to Regina coming home 3 hours after curfew without a proper explanation. Over the years Regina calmed down and matured out of her rebellious phase while Mr. Watkins began dying his prematurely grey locks, and growing proud of the woman his daughter was becoming. On the morning of the tenth of April, Mr. Watkins washed out the hair dye and threw away the bottle, staring at himself in the mirror obsessing over each silver strand of hair and wishing that he could relive every disobedient, troublesome moment if she could come back for one more day.

#ShortShortStories #Paternity


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