jaylar
John realised his behaviour was extremely strange.
His father knew him as a resentful, angry boy, who ‘hated’ him. To walk in, see gifts and dinner being prepared was almost enough to give the old man a stroke.
Talking gruffly, in his usual voice John said; “I just felt like it,” keeping his face averted as his eyes were filling.
“What’s this stuff?” his father asked, looking at the gifts.
“Just stuff…” John barked, then, “You want eat or not?”
“Maybe later.”
“Well, I’m hungry now…” John said, grabbing a plate.
He went to the table, looking at his food, not even glancing at his father and began to eat.
“I didn’t know you could cook…” the father said.
“I’m not that good…” John said.
The father went to the food, tasted, added a few things, took a plate and came to the table.
