Decayed copper coins and dandelions. My association to Sunday’s in the best way, the best way I can remember. Cancer the monster that comes for us all in the end; I remember my grandfather saying. If I isn’t cancer it will be the damn bigots; he would add. My little legs carried my eager body to hide as the giant in my grandfather searched the field for my curly head top. The dandelion balls disguised my small body. It was harder then to prevent myself from spewing up laughter but, now it barely creeps up my throat. Bambino? He’d playfully chant, then before I knew it two great hands would scoop me from under my arms. In masses of laughter he’d chuck me into the air and catch me. The copper coins stained his hands. I remember the smell intensely. I’d bloom once more to smell your copper hands. Published by AdHoc Fiction, 15/05/2019
You can now view this story as well as other short-stories in my collection 'Kapav Garcon, Kapav Zaco' here.