When he called, his voice was startling and unwelcome, like a crow in the middle of the night. His gaze was foreign—not that of a loving father, but neither of an abusive one. His entire existence was strange to me, like a puzzle piece that had fallen out of place.
No one dared to voice their thoughts as this supposedly touching reunion took place, not even the real crows out there. I could see the reflection of my own eyes on his rather faded ones; a tear slipping away from his eyes as his trembling hand reached out to me and my legs stumbled away from him.
"I…" the ghost of my father muttered, his mouth hanging in the air as he struggled to say his words. "I'm… sorry…"
