MY DAD

The squeak of the door is the first sign that he is home, and all conversations come to a quick end as you hear the heavy plods of feet slowly dragging themselves up the stairs, you can hear a mumbling of one voice talking as if he had never left work. He wraps up the conversation and swiftly walks towards the phone were he places his mobile upon it to charge, when he turns around mother prepares herself for the night long explanation of who annoyed him throughout the day.