Teardrops of Heaven

The evening sun had set, it's tangerine color luminated the vast rice field just next to the Baiju's wooden family altar. Ghunan made a stop at the altar just on his way home and whispered a few prayers.

"Dear ancestors," he started, "thank you for giving me this life that I had, for feeding the three of us mortals the food that we earned..." Ghunan paused, looked down at his worn off pair of canvas shoes which he won at an annual lucky draw held at his village community last November. He then thought about his wife and son who were expecting him to be home any minute.

"...and whatever future you give my family, I trust you in this, I hope we will be happy and grateful to you."



so, that's my first few sentences for the opening of my first draft short story; Teardrops of Heaven.

stay tune to catch up with the rest of the story.