This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.
Everything changed when I turned 40. The day before my birthday, I was at Buddies, my local leather bar, drinking a glass of scotch while a pup serviced my boots. I’d always been dominant, the one in control, the one calling the shots.
What a difference a day makes.
I set my empty glass down on the bar and felt a hand grip my shoulder, the friction causing my leather jacket to creak. “Hey, dad,” I heard someone say.
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