Shining

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook 

The bright sun told me he was there.  That he was watching.  A promise kept, but more often than not, it was a promise broken.  My uncle said he would always be here for me.  Would always have my back.  But now, I only felt his presence when the sun was shining.  Shining, but hidden behind inanimate objects.  That was the only way my family knew how to love.  Brightly.  Hidden.  Unaware.  My uncle had been missing now for three and a half months.  Three and a half months with no help.  If only they knew I was dying. 

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