“Dad?” My father’s face is blurry like an out-of-focus camera or maybe it’s because I haven’t seen him in almost 30 years.
As we stand at the edge of a great series of waterfall, a thought occurs, am I dead?
Dad chuckles as if he’s reading my thoughts, “No, you’re not dead.”
“Then how did I get here?” The last thing I remember was listening to the Chronicles of Narnia on my bed. It was talking about the children finding a great waterfall.
Impulsively, I hug my dad. “I miss you.”
Dad chuckles again, “It’s time to wake up, now.”
A little behind the story – dad passed away on 6/6/1996. I didn’t know him at all as I was not even 5-year-old at the time. The only way I knew what he looked like was through the great stack of photos I helped digitize this last Christmas. This story is a tribute to him and though it could’ve taken place anywhere, the photo prompt provided the perfect location.
By the way, though there were probably numerous waterfalls in the Chronicles of Narnia, the one I’m referring to in this story is the one in The Silver Chair or The Last Battle, I cannot recall.