‘Go daddy, go!’ The word spun in my head like dead leaves falling from a withered tree.
Dear Son,
Hey little buddy! How’s it going?
I watched you the other day, playing with your action men figurines. “Go daddy” you’d shout
There was one man that decided he could take no more son. He was suddenly the black sheep in the heard. The one who stood out, though amongst others he endured. However, Owen, I plead you to understand, that was not my choice. It was like they'd seized me by the throat and asphyxiated until the spark dissolved in my eyes and the fighting spirit in me had deceased.
I know this letter will never reach you Son. It can’t.
Come see daddy soon.