Little Brother

This post is written for Friday Fictioneers.






Why didn’t you tell me Ma? Were you ashamed?

I’m ninety-two and I’m  sitting here looking at your grave trying my best to understand what was going through your head. It must have been hard on you.

My granddaughter found out about him. One of those computer programs that help you find your relatives. It took her years to tell me. She showed me a copy of the birth certificate. George Leon Jeffers was what you named him. Looks like he died when he was one day old.

I sure wish I had known I had a brother Ma.