The Box

God it's cold . Her frozen lips taking the last drag of the cigarette as if her life depended on it.
Smoke blended with her breath in the freezing fog. Looking out on to the empty streets before her nothing had really changed .Bitter sweet memories surfaced into her consciousness like ghosts from the past.
How long had it been? she wasn't sure . Fiona felt like a time traveller transported back to small nothern town of her youth.
The building behind had been the middle school now converted into the nursing home that housed her father .
She closed her eye's against what she had to face. Hearing the sounds of children laugh and scream as they once had made her turn and look at the old playground. It was a driveway now covered in gravel. The recordings of her childhood being played back on the tape deck in her mind.
Having second thoughts she stood rooted to the spot all she wanted to do was run away but duty kept her there like a invisible hand.
Knotts twisted in her stomach as she crunched her way to the now electronic front door.
After being buzzed in the smell of urine and air freshener nearly made her gag.
She signed in and was shown to his room by a portly woman who seemed too happy for her own good.
Fiona hesitated at the open door , was she really ready to meet the man who had caused her so much pain?.
Sat hunched in a chair he was hardly recognisable , a deflated version of the man she used to know.
Watery eye's looked up at her as if for the first time .
'Dad it's Fiona do you remember me?
The old man just sat there staring with those distant eye's .
The home had rang a few weeks before to inform her that he didn't have long left , this was going to be their last meeting.
A brown knitted cardigan hung loosly from his shoulders with food stains down the front.
For the first time in her life she actually felt sorry for the man.
'I brought some humbugs dad , i remembered you like them', her voice seemed louder than usual like she was talking to a child.
Making some room on the table beside him , her fathers trembling hand reached out and grabbed her wrist.
Repulsed Fiona tried to pull away but his grip remained strong . He pushed something into her hand.
Looking down into her open palm she saw a small laquered box that she recognised instantly.
Memories of a distant childhood came flooding back as hot tears pricked her eyes .
For the contents had been something she had loved as a little girl but forbidden to touch.
Was it his way of saying sorry?.
The old man slummped a little futher into his seat , the hand that had given the gift fell away with years of regret .