Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
A tall father rushed to keep his tiny daughter under their umbrella, trying to watch the fellow pedestrians so as not to gouge them, and also trying to watch the girl he so clearly adored as she jumped over and into puddles. He stepped along, wary of the countless ways to break one’s ankle on Istanbul streets and sidewalks. In one moment, he sneered upward at the God that would create both daughters and rain, and a crowded street full of holes, restless pedestrians, boys roasting chestnuts and men smoking cigarettes.
They needed to rush to catch the tram, so he picked her up. Hoisted sideways under his arm, head forward and legs kicking behind, his daughter laughed with delight in their sprint of the final paces to the turnstile. Once there, he had to set her down and use his pass to enter, use both hands to close their umbrella, but she kept her arms up, grinning at the face far above her, waiting to be carried further on.