His feet barely rose from the hard ground.
“Stand tall,” they used to snap. “Don’t shuffle,” they’d say. “Lift your steps high.”
But that was when his hair was dark and thick and waving in the wind, when his back was straight and his eyes bright and his heart full of hope and love and promise for the future.
That was years ago. Decades ago.
(The rest of it is here)
After seven months of meaning to write something, I finally have an entry under short stories. I am under no illusions as to its quality, so I’m really, truly, asking for criticism here. I’m not that happy with it, so if you have thoughts that would make it better, I’d appreciate it.