“What’s that, Daddy?” Cindy pointed to the picture of the silvery ball in the photo album that David had been showing her.
“That’s the ball in Times Square that used to drop on New Year’s Eve.”
“It doesn’t drop anymore?”
“No, honey. In fact, that picture shows the last one to drop, the night before the Overseers came. We don’t celebrate New Years that way now.”
“Then that’s a good thing, right?”
“Yes, Cindy. It’s a good thing.” David’s voice choked on the words as he tried to speak in an even tone.
“Why are you crying, Daddy?” Cindy frowned as she asked that and David dashed the tears from his eyes.
“They’re happy tears, sweetheart. You were born just a few months later.”
He smoothed the tentacles out of her eyes and Cindy’s face relaxed again. Good. He still remembered what happened the last time she got upset. He scratched at the welts on his face.
“It’s time for bed now.”
Cindy turned her golden eyes to focus on him, her tentacles wriggling in silent communication before giving him a kiss.
“They said you should get rid of that photo album. Goodnight, Daddy.”
©2009 Laura Eno
