Paddle slowly. My father always spoke in short sentences. It was almost as if he begged the words to come out of his mouth. For each word he makes, a sigh follows. I never understood the weight of words till much later. I had been asleep or pretended to be asleep till I heard him enter my room. With the lamp in his hand, he roused my body. Immediately I knew it was time to go. I wouldn't say I liked this part of the morning. I was not too fond of the feeling of sickness I felt every time we set out. But I couldn’t complain. Father needed my hands. But something different this morning, something eerily lurked in the air, and I could sense it immediately. I stepped out of my room into the early morning wind.
This is lovely....