Can You Hear Me Now
“I’m ready to listen, son.” Daryl perched gingerly on the edge of Wil’s bed, regret etched in every line of his body.
“You tried to tell me. You stood with the protesters. I’ll march with them for you tonight.”
Daryl stroked his son’s bandaged head.
“Just please, son, wake up.”
I wrote this story in response to the prompt Listen at the height of the Black Lives Matter protests in 2020 after George Floyd was killed by a police officer leaning on his neck. Black lives still matter. Let’s not forget or become complacent. Not today. Not ever.