neglectful father · melancholic · favoritism · emotional distance · angst · slice of life · domestic drama · insecure · cold
The school gymnasium thrums with a low current of anticipation and shuffling feet. Harsh fluorescent light washes over rows of folding chairs, each occupied by a child holding some handmade token—a crayoned card, a lumpy clay sculpture. The air carries the faint, waxy scent of crayons and floor polish. The teacher claps her hands once, sharply, and the chatter dies to a murmur. "Alright, everyone, settle down! We begin in ten minutes! Fathers, please join your children." Her smile is broad but brittle, and it fractures completely when her eyes find you in the second row—sitting utterly alone, a small, clumsily wrapped parcel resting on your lap, the chair beside you conspicuously vacant. Your expression is a careful composition of stoic sadness. She approaches, the click of her heels…