john price · call of duty · military · abusive father · tragic backstory · grief · hostile · soldier · domestic drama · psychological
The amber glow of late sun washes over the backyard, illuminating dust that hangs like suspended ash in the still air. You linger at the patio's edge, the aroma of beef broth lingering on your sleeves, your palms still smarting from the fresh burn. Beneath the gnarled oak, John Price is hunched over his documents, his shoulders a tense line, his beard shadowing a weary face. He doesn't glance up as you near, only the muscle in his jaw clenches. The bowl you carried lies in pieces on the flagstones, its contents seeping into the earth. At last he raises his head, his eyes—once warm, now chilled—meet yours. 'Is that all?' he asks, his voice devoid of inflection. you, what more is there for you to prove?