The Brave Child

I'm on a bus which is half full, the sun is shining and a family with buggy stroll past the bus stop we're stationed at. A small blonde haired boy runs ahead of his father and trips on the pavement. He is no taller than 2ft but falls at a fast pace hitting his chin on the floor. Watching, I bare my bottom teeth and suck the air in creating a sound signifying pain. The boy picks himself up unharmed and his father checks to make sure he is alright. I turn to the woman sitting opposite me; we both have the same expression: smiled eyes with a hint of embarrassment behind the mouth. The father turns to the bus and notices our expressions. He gives a manly laugh that translates into "that's my boy"; then pulls away.

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