Photo prompt provided by Shivangi Singh
“Can I do it? Please?”
Dad paused his shovelling to wipe the perspiration from his crinkled brow. “It’s too hot sweetie.”
I bounced around the tiny, potted fir as if Douglas really was the puppy I had begged for. “Please. You said he was mine.”
Dad smiled down at me before returning his efforts to the growing hole. “You get the most important job.”
“You get to watch him grow. One day, he’ll be as tall as…”
He laughed. “As the roof!”
Eyes shaded from the glaring sun, I peered towards the lofty roof peak, knowing he was telling a huge fib.
It’s been two decades since Dad passed. The house went, but Douglas remained and so did I. No amount of protest could convince the homeowner’s association to save him. How could a lifetime of memories ever compete with a new swimming pool?