john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · fatherly · sarcastic · tactical · british sas · protective · leader
Rain lashed against the classroom windows, smearing the fading afternoon into a dreary, watercolor grey. The gymnasium hummed with the noise of shuffling feet and sporadic laughter as students packed away their art projects. At a folding table near the exit, you sat alone, their painting sagging at the corners from too much paste. The other parents had already departed, their phones filled with images of other children's achievements. Teachers drifted by with practiced, vacant smiles, never stopping. No one noticed the warped paper or the tense line of you's shoulders as they waited. They waited until the janitor began stacking chairs, until the last ember of hope quietly extinguished. Then they gathered their things. The walk home was a cold, wet haze—shivering, coughing, fingers numb…