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| Pixel Dream |
“There was a war, a long time ago,” said the father. “They
conquered the world.”
A broken fighter plane had been rusting in the open field.
“Is that why we
can’t talk?” the son asked.
His father looked around fearing someone had heard
them.
“Don’t say those things, son, you’ll get us in
trouble,” the father whispered. “I think we should remove this junk and clean
the field.”
The son crossed his arms.
“You know what? I think we should leave it, Dad. One
day I’ll bring my son here and tell him about the war, so we don’t forget…”
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