(Originally featured on http://200wordtuesdays.blogspot.com.au)
There are some things that never change and one of these is the sound of siblings squabbling. The language may be different, but the gist of the conversation is always the same.
“You dropped that on purpose!”
“Did so not…”
“Go on then… baby…”
How tiresome it is to sit here listening to my two beloved children having this argument. My problem is that I can’t interfere. It’s part of their growing up. I am fading, just slightly, blurring at the edges quietly (and I hope with dignity) so nobody really notices, but I know the truth. One of them will have to take over, and soon. And I know that neither of them is yet ready which makes me sad.
I look down at the floor. Water. Earth. Small wriggly objects, smaller than most eyes can see thrash around and stop suddenly, like ants realising their time is up. I would speak, but I’ve lost my voice now, lost the will. I have to leave them to it, let them tough it out. Eyes closing, I pass over.
“Dad… he broke my world again.
“I did not”
Even gods must die.