“Rock, scissors, paper, shoot!” His tiny hand forms a fist which I tenderly enclose within my own, wishing as I do that I’ll never have to let it go. “Paper covers rock.” On his back is a Thomas the Tank Engine rucksack with a weekend’s worth of clothes and toys. In his mind are a thousand half-formed questions that I’ll never be able to answer. He watches from the train window and sees different roads, different shops, different houses. He wonders aloud which one is daddy’s. “Shoot!” Again, his hand forms rock and it shatters me into a million pieces.
Charles Prelle is a London-based writer and playwright. He is also a proud dad. Find Charles at crprellewriter.wordpress.com and on Twitter @CharlesPrelle.