When the wrecking ball crashed into his childhood bedroom the crowd gasped. Dawes felt glee tinged with betrayal.
He could practically hear his mom, “how could you?!”
It’s just a house. He reasoned her nonexistent voice away.
“But the land. Your father!”
Dawes found himself pulling up his bank account on his phone. One glance reminded him why.
Those zero’s are worth it.
The wrecking ball crashed through his family’s living room.
“You’re not MY son.” Years later it still stung but Dawes shrugged it off.
But I am his and he built this road. It’s always been his plan.
Word Count: 100
For Friday Fictioneers