My Hero Writing Competition winner

He sits on his chair next to the oak sideboard, his long skinny arm resting on it. The sun streams through the window behind him, making his wispy hair shine. He wears a brown cardigan that hangs loosely on his thin frame. He looks as if he has grown out of the sideboard like an old wizened branch.

I pull my chair close to him and sit looking up into his twinkling eyes. His face creases slowly into a smile. His wife busies herself in the kitchen. She is large and strong but we are thin and weak. We talk of deep

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