Translation
Vaterliebe
Fatherly love
A smile crept onto her face ...
He wanted to be alone with her.
He never wanted that, he had never been interested in her, but today he came to her and asked her if she would go out with him.
A conversation between the two of them without anyone intervening.
For the first time she had him alone, for the first time she could talk to him without him concentrating on the television or his new wife.
Her heart beat faster, giving her wings and making her look impatiently at the clock.
Outside at 3 p.m., he had said, and with every tick of the second hand the meeting was drawing closer.
What should she say?
What should she talk to him about?
So far they haven't had a real conversation, just advances. Unsuccessful advances.
She thought back, thought of the past year, of the sports classes, the tutoring, of everything she had done to improve herself, to be worthy. And now she had made it.
He had finally seen her, finally noticed her.
Now everything would get better, everything would be nicer and she would finally be happy again.
The small, fat hand was on 3, the clock struck.
She got up hastily.
Ran out of the apartment, away from her relatives, her friends, the celebration that was given for her.
She only had one goal.
Him.
A smile crept onto her face as she stood before him.
Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her eyes were shiny. She looked proud, proud and full of joy.
But then the smile disappeared.
He had his back to her, hands in his pockets, ready to go.
What was she doing wrong?
Something hurt inside her.
Noises could be heard from above and she winced when a little boy came running down the stairs. He laughed, looked happy, and grinned at the man before disappearing outside.
Her eyes glazed over and hesitantly looked back at him, at the one who had made them glow a few seconds ago.
But he took no notice of her.
He went, stepping slowly down the stairs to follow the boys, to leave them alone.
"Dad?" She whispered, her voice weak and trembling, unnaturally high, like breaking glass.
She held out her hand to him, to the man she had done everything for.
But the door was already closing.
He left without turning around again, without saying "goodbye".
From the apartment there were calls to her ears for her well-being, for her health and happiness, but his voice could not be heard.
He was gone
© caperpri
He wanted to be alone with her.
He never wanted that, he had never been interested in her, but today he came to her and asked her if she would go out with him.
A conversation between the two of them without anyone intervening.
For the first time she had him alone, for the first time she could talk to him without him concentrating on the television or his new wife.
Her heart beat faster, giving her wings and making her look impatiently at the clock.
Outside at 3 p.m., he had said, and with every tick of the second hand the meeting was drawing closer.
What should she say?
What should she talk to him about?
So far they haven't had a real conversation, just advances. Unsuccessful advances.
She thought back, thought of the past year, of the sports classes, the tutoring, of everything she had done to improve herself, to be worthy. And now she had made it.
He had finally seen her, finally noticed her.
Now everything would get better, everything would be nicer and she would finally be happy again.
The small, fat hand was on 3, the clock struck.
She got up hastily.
Ran out of the apartment, away from her relatives, her friends, the celebration that was given for her.
She only had one goal.
Him.
A smile crept onto her face as she stood before him.
Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her eyes were shiny. She looked proud, proud and full of joy.
But then the smile disappeared.
He had his back to her, hands in his pockets, ready to go.
What was she doing wrong?
Something hurt inside her.
Noises could be heard from above and she winced when a little boy came running down the stairs. He laughed, looked happy, and grinned at the man before disappearing outside.
Her eyes glazed over and hesitantly looked back at him, at the one who had made them glow a few seconds ago.
But he took no notice of her.
He went, stepping slowly down the stairs to follow the boys, to leave them alone.
"Dad?" She whispered, her voice weak and trembling, unnaturally high, like breaking glass.
She held out her hand to him, to the man she had done everything for.
But the door was already closing.
He left without turning around again, without saying "goodbye".
From the apartment there were calls to her ears for her well-being, for her health and happiness, but his voice could not be heard.
He was gone
© caperpri