The Nice Thing About Strangers

Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.

Brotherly Love

Spending time with my little brother this weekend. Reminded me of this pair in Istanbul. (And a photo of us admiring his new goldfish on a Christmas morning once upon a time. What shocks me now is that my hair is the same, even after years of products.)
childhood photos

The Nice Thing About Strangers

He tumbles, his small souvenir fez cap flying. The boy and his younger sister had been running down the cobblestones by the Archaeology Museum in Istanbul, dashing on ahead of their parents. After he falls, his tiny sister stops cold. She leans over her brother. He is slow to stand and holding the side of his head, but not crying. She is half his height, but leans down since he remains low to the ground. She tucks her souvenir over her ear–a headband made from a string of cloth flowers–then she collects her brother’s keepsake. The fez is dusted off in an instinctual swipe before she hands it over. She touches the uninjured side of his head just as he begins to feel the attention is too much. He chokes back tears as their parents finally approach, and lifts himself to stand tall. Still worried about her big brother, but…

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This entry was posted on December 7, 2012 by in Travel.

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