“You’ll make a sucky father someday,” I tell him with a smile. “I feel sorry for the kid that doesn’t get to burst into light to get out of your house.” He chokes out a laugh. “Is it my sarcasm?” “Definitely. And that obnoxious accent.”
“I'm out, surrounded in dark. But in the distance there is a small glow, a tiny light. Suddenly I'm standing alone, the space starting to brighten as the light grows.”