Well, I'm sort of lacking motivation to work on The Cycle, so I'm taking a break to start on this. Woot! Oh yeah, I think I'm gonna ditch Country Girl and have this take its place, since I've got this better worked out in my head. I'm just like azn when it comes to stories, eh? Can't commit to anything…though I will finish the Cycle and hopefully this. Anyway…
Father
I didn't know what to say when they asked me if I would speak at my grandfather's funeral. I envisioned myself standing at his grave, speaking in front of a whole bunch of my family and friends, and suddenly breaking into sobs in front of them all. That would be really embarrassing. But I ultimately said yes, because even if I was so nervous I could die, ironically, I knew I wouldn't be able to live the guilt down afterwards if I didn't speak, after all he had done for me. After all I had been through, he had been the one person I could count on for stability and security, something I had never had before the fire.
Chapter 1
Ding dong.
"Coming!" called Mark Gershwin. He slowly rose from his chair in front of his old-fashioned TV and walked to the door, groaning as he did so - he did not like visitors. They serve only to give sympathy or take money, and he didn't like either. Reluctantly, he opened the door.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Gershwin?" said a man clad in a suit and sunglasses.
Mark glared at him, before responding, "What are you, from the FBI or something? The last thing I want to see is anything having to do with the government. The only reason why I don't outright denounce them is because they pay me my crappy military pension."
"No sir, I'm from Child Protection Services. I'm here concerning your granddaughter Jean."
Mark blushed, then said, rather embarrassed, "Oh." Then there was a moment of silence. "Er…do you want to come in?"
The man smiled. "Yes, that would be nice," he replied dryly.
Mark's eyes followed the man as he entered with malice. The last thing he wanted was to have anything to do with anything about his daughter, and as a result his granddaughter was part of that. He stiffly motioned the guest into a chair and then took a chair opposite. "Well," he said. "Spit it out. What's the story?"
The man removed his sunglasses and then lowered his head. "Mr. Gershwin," he began, "I'm sorry. Your daughter…was killed in an electrical fire in her apartment yesterday."
Mark simply said, "Cut to the chase."
The CPS agent was stunned. "Don't you care at all about your daughter?"
Mark lit a cigarette. "Not particularly. You were saying?"
The agent stared in shock at Mark, shook his head, and continued, "Well, your granddaughter survived, and now has no home, as her father is imprisoned for murder, as you probably know."
"Oh yes," said Mark, laughing scornfully, "Just the sort of trash she would marry."
The agent rolled his eyes before continuing, "Well, we were wondering if you would want to care for your granddaughter. But, I'm suspecting not, seeing as how you seem to have a general disinclination towards your daughter."
"Damn right," said Mark. "Well, what's in it for me?"
"Excuse me?"
"Of what benefit is it to me to take in my granddaughter?"
"Well, I dunno, besides raising your own granddaughter and giving her a home, God might smile down upon you. Jesus Christ, do you have any heart at all?"
"Yes sir. A damn good one too. I'm in my sixties and I've only had one problem with it in that entire time."
"What's that?"
"It was broken."
The agent fell silent. A bird chirped outside of Mark's suburban home. A car passed. But the men were silent. At long last, Mark offered, "Cigarette?"
"No thank you, I don't smoke."
"Hmph," replied Mark.
"All right," said the agent. "There is one substantial benefit of taking in your granddaughter."
"Which is?"
"The money from your daughter's life insurance goes to her family. If you take in your granddaughter, you're family."
"Now that's more like it!" replied Mark, slapping the agent as he stood up. "When does she get here?"
Moar chapter 1 coming soonish…






