Papa

By Goitseone Raphael Francistown, 1997 The same dream haunted me every morning. Papa would appear without warning, smiling warmly, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. In those moments, everything felt perfect, but then the alarm would blare, tearing me away from him. I slammed the clock, but the damage was done. The warmth of Papa’s... Continue Reading →

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑