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Finding my father.

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My clothes felt like a cold, damp extension of my body, as I lay panting on the floor. Blood, water, sweat, I wasn't sure what it was. At this moment, I was just glad to be alive. As I attempted to pick myself up off the rough asphalt, I felt a warm liquid well up in the depths of my throat, as I retched onto the ground. Oddly, this wasn't how I normally felt at 11am on a Thursday morning. My name is Alex Watson. Alex was after my father, a man who I heard a great deal about, but never met. My mother was only a college girl when she met my father. He was dead before I was born. When I asked my mother about it, she got angry, or said she was tired, anything to avoid my questions. In the end, I just had to get on with my life. I moved to New York, into an apartment block which encapsulated the bleak misery of city life. You eventually learn to block out the sirens, gunshots and screaming. About a year ago, I got an urge to discover who my father was, beyond the facade of distorted facts my mother decided to disclose to me. ...read more.


It's probably normal to, at some point or other, question your existence on this planet. Why are you here? What's so special about you? In my case, I took a long hard look at myself, and found nothing. Nada. Jack shit. I could find no real reason for me to be on this earth. And to be completely honest, this didn't surprise me. I had always been decidedly average. My only sense of purpose was finding the truth about my father, but to do that I needed money, and to get money I needed to work. Unfortunately, as I've already stated, my job was like a nine to five lecture on the art of watching paint dry. What I needed was a miracle. What I got was a blessing in disguise. "Sir, you can't stay here, it's public endangerment!". I can't say I ever heard these words, my drunken demeanour, as well the cacophony of the halted cars horns, prevented them from reaching my ears as I wandered down the middle of a road. I tripped over my own feet, and landed back first. "Back owf!" I warned, "I'm armsed!". I swung my whiskey bottle wildly, until it flung off and hit the floor. ...read more.


This woman, smiling at me from behind the desk, was beautiful, not in a catwalk super model kind-of-way, which had never appealed to me, but in a regular, every day kind of way. Her smile was kind and gentle, and her deep brown eyes sparkled in the hazy mid-day sun. She was stunning in a subtle way. I was falling for her, and I could feel it. Her smile broke as she spoke again, "Normally, I get a nasty sneer off people, and that's off the nice ones. But I could tell you were different, even when I first saw you." Her face broke into a smile again, and I just hoped I wasn't staring at her. "I don't know...I just knew you where different." I returned the smile, the first real smile I had had in months. "Thank you. Hopefully, I'll see you around." She smiled at me, "Hopefully not under the same circumstances, but we can live in hopes otherwise." As I walked out of the door, the painful brightness of the midday sun couldn't dampen my mood. I was no closer to finding my father, but maybe a step closer to finding myself. Adam Dutch 12K ...read more.

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