He was the beloved of the village, Konso’s Grandpa he was called. Everyday, roughly around the sun behind the far off tree line, Grandpa would stroll to the local market to purchase beans and rice. He couldn’t buy much at once, for his joints were sore and his legs so tired.
On the way home, he would be greeted by the village children. They laughed and hugged him ever so tightly. He looked forward to this moment. The beautiful smiles and genuine laughter made his heart smile.
His dear wife, Gianna, couldn’t bare children. These little ones reminded him that love knows no difference in family, besides those we hold valuable and cherish. The kids loved seeing Grandpa just as much. He would make funny sounds and silly faces. He knew them all by name, and adored each one. Some days he was able to pass out little mint candies. Their previous faces would light up like the sun.
Day after day, this routine was the same. The villagers would hollar to him as he came through. Sometimes, on his return home, he would accept the given invitation of dinner. He was a grateful man, and he made certain he remained humble.
Then one day he didn’t walk to the market or return home. One day the sight of him stopped, and the Konso people cried….
Written for Sheryl’s Your Daily Word Prompt: photograph
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