Another little story

I had honestly no idea what to write about today, so I figured you might as well read a short story I wrote during the summer holiday. It's not long, still in process, and faaaar from perfect and it sounds very Danish but oh who cares I just hope you guys will enjoy it anyway! It is called: Seeds of Sorrow

He mostly looks like a wounded soldier by the way he is walking around. The upper part of his body is bare and he has an unbelievable suffering expression glued on his face.

“It hurts like hell!” he moans and softly touches his right shoulder. (Sissy). A huge red mark can be seen there but at this very moment it is covered in yogurt. Dad’s brilliant idea. (Idiotic). The door closes behind him and dad stands still in the kitchen. Mom continues to chop the watermelon. The seeds dance on the table. A distressing is heard behind the closed door but nothing happens. The clock is ticking. (Wimp). The door opens and dad, who is still standing like a statue, finally turns around.

“Did it help?” It is clearly the yogurt-idea he is talking about. The “soldier” walk and expression disappears from his face and a pathetic and crying one appears. (Cry-baby). The glittering tears are running and he is inconsolable.

“Argh, it hurts like FUCK!” he sobs angrily while dad is giving him comforting words which obviously don’t have any effect. The seeds of the watermelon lie on the floor but no one even looks at them. (Fool.)

 “Maybe you’ve been stung by something which you’re allergic to?” Dad suggests and looks a bit hopeful.

“Yes life,” I say. (Twerps). 

I hope you enjoyed this - goodnight!