Tears of Blood
“Smith, tell me the story again," ten-year-old Josiah begged. "Tell me about my father." "Joe, I’ve told you three times this week," the silver-haired black man sighed, frustrated by his young ward’s pestering.
"It’s okay, Josiah," Annie replied. "I remember it. I’ll tell you." Josiah smiled, white teeth flashing in his café au lait face, but he was in no way deterred. "I want to hear it from your grandpa," he told his friend.
"Well, Josiah," Mr. Smith replied, "I’ll consider it... after practic...e." Josiah commenced to whining as only a small boy can whine, but Mr.
Smith put his hand on the child’s thin back and ushered him out of the central meeting hall of the compound to the courtyard. Annie trailed along, trying not to look too eager. Why doesn’t Josiah like practice?
I love it! I’d do it every day if I had a chance!
But today, it seemed, grandpa was feeling traditional. Maybe the fact that the other elder clerics were patrolling the shooting range had something to do with it.MoreLess
"It’s okay, Josiah," Annie replied. "I remember it. I’ll tell you." Josiah smiled, white teeth flashing in his café au lait face, but he was in no way deterred. "I want to hear it from your grandpa," he told his friend.
"Well, Josiah," Mr. Smith replied, "I’ll consider it... after practic...e." Josiah commenced to whining as only a small boy can whine, but Mr.
Smith put his hand on the child’s thin back and ushered him out of the central meeting hall of the compound to the courtyard. Annie trailed along, trying not to look too eager. Why doesn’t Josiah like practice?
I love it! I’d do it every day if I had a chance!
But today, it seemed, grandpa was feeling traditional. Maybe the fact that the other elder clerics were patrolling the shooting range had something to do with it.MoreLess
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