salvation

a father lay dying in his hay mattress, his three sons around him.
dear sons, he said. i can see death grinning at me.
shall I punch it father? the oldest son asked, brandishing his big strong fists, each as big as a child’s head.
or better yet, shall i charm him with my smile? the second son [...]

Për të komentuar tek Peshku pa ujë, ju duhet të identifikoheni ose të regjistroheni (regjistrimi është falas).