The Secret (Flash Fiction)

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I saw him struggling to get up from his bed today, his wobbly feet unable to hold onto his weight. Shaking, he somehow managed to reach the kitchen counter to make tea. His hands were trembling as he added sugar and milk to the boiling water. 


Source: trauma.blog.yorku.ca
Pity is what everyone feels for him. At 87 he is struggling to live past every day and is praying death embraces him soon.  But my heart refuses to feel anything. How can I forget that those were the very hands that touched me in the dark when I was 11? Those were the very feet whose slightest movement would scare me for they announced his arrival. Our little secret was what he called it and till date no one knows about it. People who leak secrets and break trust go to hell; I had heard Father say that once at the church. I dare not leak our secret thereon. 

With his one touch he took away my childhood. He said that was the key to his youth. What he didn’t know was that key belonged to my future. And it has remained unlocked ever since then.

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