PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

Kagiso was cold. The rain soaked through his clothes and backpack. He thought of going back home. His father’s stern face yelling at him flashed through his mind. He was never going back.

He stopped at the movie theater and another memory fluttered through his thoughts. He was ten years old, and he was re-enacting parts of the action movie his father took him to see. They laughed together at his antics. A smile smoothed his tense face and the warmth of the bright theater lights touched his heart as he whispered, “Ntate, my father.”

Kagiso sprinted home.

                                                                                                                                                                                  (98 words)


Some notes:

Ntate means my father in Setswana, a language of Southern Africa mainly spoken in Botswana and South Africa.

Kagiso pronounced Ka-khee-soh (guttural ‘g’)

This was written for Friday Fictioneers where we’re challenged to write micro fiction of 100 words or less. Visit Rochelle’s site for more info.