Wednesday, June 24, 2015

The Kiss

My Dad and I had this little ritual, if you can call it that. In the morning, (provided I wasn't getting ready for school or otherwise frantically finishing homework), as he left for work I would walk him to the front door and see him off. I would give him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek as I said, "bye", and "have a great day!"

My father would be looking fresh and handsome, he'd be smelling of after-shave, (usually Old Spice), his hair would be wet, neatly combed back, his shirt would be ironed and crisp.

He'd stop and turn. He'd take hold my nose and my ear with two fingers of both hands, much like you would hold a jug by its handles, turn my cheek towards him and give me a kiss on my cheek.

Years and years have passed.
I would sell my soul to feel those cool lips on my cheek again. 

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