Father, The Creature
“You're all I got kiddo, there's no reason I can't show you what you have.”
The choke in his throat echoed in his chest, through the flannel shirt and worn brown tweed trench coat pressed against Ivy's right ear. The soft patter of two tear drops fell and darkened the red hair cupped by the black fingerless gloves standing as platforms to erect the black polished spindly fingers, that were not hers, but recognized as her own. Looking up from her cradle, she held the bloodshot eyes of this mysterious creature, who loomed over her for all these years, solely devoted to her every waking moment, entertaining every stray glimpse. He was a magician of sorts, therein that every gesture of his hands, every long pause and question conjured up some grand and rather profound feats, no matter how insignificant their quandaries. The five 'o clock shadow poked through his pail skin of the long face, like prickly needled cacti of the Mohave, encircled by oiled curly black hair like the night sky in the west. They've been everywhere together. The journey drew to a close, and now the preparation was over.
Watching the last glimpse of the heeled leather boot disappearing around the opaque grey corner through the watery green gaze, and hand held in a somber wave, he knew her real journey was just beginning. The only end, was his. The ghost fell to dust.