‘That’s the house where your father was born,’ said the old man in a melancholy tone.
‘But I have never been there?’
‘Yes. Actually…..’ the old man was unable to continue.
‘It was your house?’
‘Yes….no, it was my father’s house.’
‘That would be Papa’s grandfather?’
‘Why don’t we live there? I could have a room for myself.’
‘After my mother passed away, my father decided to marry again. The lady he married was a decent person but her elder brother……..’ the old man looked at the innocent boy and felt a bit ashamed.
‘It’s rather complicated…..’
a post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt.
Word count 98