“Daddy’s home!” I yelled as I heard my dad’s old, red Chevy spit gravel in front of our house. The faux-crystal door handle jiggled in my hand as I twisted it, the wooden screen door flapping behind me as I tore down the concrete steps and skipped across our small front lawn. There in my dad’s hand was his coal-mining bucket,
DAD’S BUCKET
Apr 21, 2023
2 minutes
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