Not beautiful

He walked across the lawn in the dark pouring rain. He stopped at a small boy,

Standing in the rain, holding a bright blue umbrella with yellow ducks on it. The

Father looked down at his young son. "Get your bag," he said with no emotion

In his voice. "We're leaving." The young boy looked up at his father, with his brown

Eyes gleaming in the night as he tried to sniffle back a tear. But it was no use, as it

Fell from his eyes and into the short, green grass and it disappeared with the rain.

The boy ran into the dilapidated house with a look on his face of pure confusion

And terror. The threw his umbrella to the side as he opened the door. The boy

was stopped dead in his tracks by the emptiness of the house. Of

Course he had seen it all beforeā€¦ but there was something about this one that made

Him feel happy and warm inside, the whole mood of the house had changed and

Now seemed unreal that the house was cold, dark, and not beautiful.


The boy trudged up to his room and grabbed his old and torn bag as he tried

Not to look at his now empty room. When he came down the wooden and worn

Stairs, he stopped at a window and stared across the yard at his father. His father

Was in his truck, in the seat, ready to go. But he was crying. Tears ran down his cheeks

Freely as he tried to hide them. The boy stared at him, the unanswered question

Running through his mind: "When's mom coming back?"

Now his question had been answered.

The boy now knew that he was never seeing his mother again.

The End