Father and son by Federico Patané

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SUMMARY: Entry for the september flash fiction contest. Comments/critiques will be most welcome. wordcount: 858 words.


"What happened dad?" Jaked asked his father. "What is so important that you made me come here in such an emergency?"

"Hurry, come." Said the old man signaling Jake to follow him through his house and into his bedroom. "I have to give you something."

The old man searched anxiously though his closet while jake sat on the bed looking annoyed. The old man was a nervous and constantly looked back at Jake behind him. What he had to give him had been delayed for several years and couldn't be delayed a minute longer.

"It's around here somewhere Jake," The old man said. "Wait a little longer and you'll see."

Jake was on his thirties. He was looking around the room and saw that everything looked old and worn out, just like his father. He felt irritated, having been dragged here against his will. After all, what could his father have in his closet that could be such an emergency.

"Finally!!!!" exclaimed the old man standing up and getting out of the closet with a very beautiful wooden box in his hands. The box was small, shiny and had a feather drawn on it's lid.

"This is it," the old man said. "Sort of, actually. I believe some explaining is needed."

The old man sat with notorious excitement on the bed next to his son placing the box on his lap. He caressed the box as if it were his greatest treasure. He opened the box carefully and showed that inside it was divided in two. In each division was a feather.

"This one," the old man said signaling at the one on the left, "is mine. And the other is yours. Do you know what these are?"

Jake looked at the two feathers in disbelief. The one that was his father's had a beautiful red color that became gold in the border. The one that was his was orange and turned green on the border. He looked at his father thinking that he had gone crazy.

The old man looked angered by his son look. He quickly shut the box and stood up facing Jake.

"You know you are not a regular man, don't you?" he said aggressively. When his son didn't answer he continued. "You are the son of a Fenix, as I am. And you die and are reborn every time! Forever! Just like I am. You are now my son, but the time when I have to become yours has come."

Jake felt a mixture of laughter and preoccupation. His father had gone crazy, and his delusions were even funny.

The old man again opened the box and took out his feather. He looked at it with much melancholy.

"Look!" He ordered his son. In one hand he was holding the feather and he had extended the other hand showing something like a tattoo of the exact same feather in the palm. "It has appeared, and when it does, it marks that my time is due. And today it has completed it's appearance." He paused taking a deep breath. "Today I will die, and today you will be me reborn. Today I will become your son."

Jake saw his father sat on the bed tiredly. From one moment to the other his father appeared to have aged at least 10 years. Jake stood up and got really worried, his father had never spoken of dying before, and all this was making him almost panic.

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