Family Portrait

"Higher, Pa! Higher!" the little girl squealed as she sat on the swing. She loved Sundays. It was the only day when she could enjoy breakfast with her father. Pa was a busy man whose daily routine revolved around early morning departures and late night returns. Sundays were special. Pa would take her out occasionally to the beach or the nearby suburban malls. It didn't matter to the little girl where they were. Pa was with her. That was all that mattered.

The young lady tapped the old man on his shoulders. "Ma wants to talk to you,"she articulated, keeping her poise. Thrusting her cell phone into his hands, she waited with arms akimbo. He was barely recognizable. A shadow of his former self, his shirt hung loosely on his skinny frame. Many questions bombarded her but the only one she heard was "Why, Pa? Why?" It had been four years since he had left home one day and did not return.It was mere coincidence that they had met amidst the crowd. As the shrivelled figure handed the cell phone over, she struggled to maintain her composure. Lacking courage, she kept her questions to herself and walked away from the man. Her pace quickened as more questions surfaced. "Well, it is only fair,"she muttered to herself as she disappeared into the throng of people ahead. "He's the one who'd first walked away from us." She brushed her thoughts aside and threw herself into the comfort of retail therapy.

Family Portrait by Pink

Chorus:
Can we work it out? Can we be a family?
I promise I'll be better. Mummy I'll do anything.
Can we work it out? Can we be a family?
I promise I'll be better. Daddy, please don't leave

In our family portrait we look pretty happy
We look pretty normal, Let's go back to that.
In our family portrait we look pretty happy
Let's play pretend like it comes naturally.


Poignant lyrics of a song. Dramatic turns of events with some semblance of a fancy novel.
Unfortunately, that lethal cocktail is my life story.
Cheers to that.