William Thomas
Stories (3/0)
The father’s promise
The temperature feels just right in the house. Cool enough to wear a light hoodie, but warm enough to still wear shorts. It seems like a strange combination; it feels so comfortable. “Are you just going to sit there and doze off all day?” She says. “I will because my hoodie feels phenomenal” I say. “Spell phenomenal,” she says. “Baby you're just mad because our daughter didn’t make you a mommy edition hoodie that looks this fly” I say. A small smile starts to form across her face. I get up and hug her from behind, wrapping my arms around her waist pulling her closer. I lightly kiss her on the cheek and softly continue down her neck. Her breath becomes shallow. “Baby don’t start, I have to finish dinner for your daughter. You know she loves her noodles anime style with chicken and vegetables floating in the bowl with the broth and the noodles.” She says. “So now she’s my daughter when she’s reppin’ anime, but she’s your daughter when she’s designing clothes and doing gymnastics” I say. “Yes, she’s Tamera Washington’s daughter when she’s designing clothes and doing gymnastics. She is Eli Washington’s daughter when she’s with all that nerd stuff.” She says, with a comical grin across her face. “So you didn’t find it cute when she would be running through the house with arms out like Naruto.” She tilts her head at me and turns one of the eyes on the stove off. “Okay, I did find it funny when she told family members, she’s attending U.A. in the fall.” She says. “So you’ve been watching anime behind my back, how could you?” I say. I move my fingertip slowly down my cheek and make sniffing noises. She laughs and lets out a snort. I don't know what it is, but weirdly enough I love when she snorts. I remember when she did it on our first date, she was so embarrassed that she covered her mouth and stared at me like a child who just swore in church. The moment of reminiscing is cut short by an open and closed door, followed with hurried footsteps up the stairs. A concerned look washes over Tamera’s face as she sets the pot on a low simmer, “Wait let me talk to her, Skylar is probably upset about that school business fair” I say. “I've been telling you we should just switch her back to homeschool again. She’s been having nothing but problems at that school. First, they say her style is too urban, then they say she’s too outspoken” she says sarcastically. If anything, her outspokenness comes from her mother, I don’t care what anyone says but she mastered that attitude from her mom. “Okay, let’s give her a couple hours to just calm down and decompress” A few hours roll by and she still hasn’t come out of her room yet. Tamera walks back and forth from the bedroom to the kitchen; I wait in the living room. She comes and taps my arm “Eli I’m worried about her, since when has she never felt like eating” she says. “Maybe she’s also tired of your cooking” I say. Tamera practically shoots lasers at me with those brown eyes of hers. Just then I hear a door creak open. Skylar walks down the stairs with a face so long that you might just trip over. “Hey Sky, how was your day baby?” Tamera says. “It was alright,” Skylar says. Tamera sighs and fixes Skylar a plate. Skylar carries her plate up to her room. Tamera plops down on the couch next to me. I open my arms without saying a word, she leans into me silently and curls up like a cat in the cold. “I hate when she gets like that,” Tamera says. “Yeah, she can be very melancholic sometimes.” I say. I miss the days where we could just give her some juice and just turn on cartoons to help perk her up. Those were the simple days, beside from changing her diaper and having to feed her. I had to fight that little girl tooth and nail when it came to mealtime. Sometimes she would enjoy the food and start crying when I put it up, and I would always give her a second and third serving. Then she would throw up all over me. Tamera hated it when I would over feed Skylar, but I couldn’t say no to those little eyes of hers. Back then if she looked at me in the right way, I would have robbed a bank for her. Sometimes she wouldn’t like the food. I would hover the spoon like airplane and say “This is daddy airlines, permission to land” while shaping my hand like a com. She would try to knock the spoon down like King Kong.
By William Thomas3 years ago in Humans
A way with words II
The orange juice leaked from the bottom of my hand as I covered my mouth. I nearly dropped the glass in shock of her question. I wasn't surprised by her question, I think any caring parent who hears their only son say "thoughts of you in ecstasy passing through my mind” would be curious as well. I didn't expect her to ask me that while I had pancakes in front me. Her eyes pierced me and my dad looked like he had her follow up. I didn't know if I was about to get jumped or if they were asking me questions.
By William Thomas3 years ago in Filthy
A way with words
My heart was slamming into my chest as I peeked at the crowd that night. Sweat flooded my palms, my stomach started to feel like a butterfly exhibit. Anxiety slowly creeped up on me. The reality of the situation began to set in, In a few moments I would be performing in front of 2,500 people. It felt like just yesterday when I was staring at a blank page with soft instrumentals
By William Thomas3 years ago in Filthy