The Boy That Cried "STOP!!" III
It was one of the days when I used to live by the woods. Grandfather was out, and should be coming back at anytime right about now. He usually does.
And indeed, he appeared. He placed down the logs that he cut off from his work, and walked unto me to pick me up, and cradled me on his arms.
"Aww~ is my willy lilly baby hungy? Is he hungy?" He nudged me with his nose playfully, and I laughed at his antiques. I was but two to three years old at that time, yet he treated me like a baby as usual.
Grandfather loved me dearly, and I was sure about that.
He then put me down and began making something for me to eat. In the meanwhile, I played at the living room, and threw the small splinters from the wood into the chimney fire.
I was always mesmerized by the flames. It always felt like they were calling out to me, and seeking my affection.
Yet I never understood that feeling.