When I entered the room, I saw my father sitting on the sofa next to the fireplace. The fire has gone out, and he was sitting in the darkness. When I came closer, I noticed something else. My father was crying.
‘What is wrong, dad?’
He didn’t answer and kept sobbing, and then I remembered.
‘I am sorry, dad, don’t cry. I am bringing a book and we will read it together, alright?’
I went to the book shelf, and took a book. Turning back to my father, I saw his tears dropping on his shirt, white and neat, leaving grey marks.