The Unexpected

Photo by Sandra Crook

She went inside and was startled to find a man standing there.  “Who are you?” she demanded. 

“Ben,” he replied.  “I’m a logger.”

“Why are you here?”

“I came to see you, Alma.”

“How do you know my name and that I’d be here?”

“I’ve been watching you.”

She recoiled.  “Are you a stalker?”

“No.  For years I’ve wanted to tell you who I am.”

“And who are you?”

“I’m your father.”

“You’re crazy.  John Miller’s my father.”

“I’m your real father, Alma.

“You’re lying!”

“I’ll prove I’m not lying.” He showed her his birthmark which was identical to hers.  

100 Words

This is the continuation of Not For the Fainthearted.

This post is for the Friday’s Fictioneers hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  You can find this week’s prompt here. To read other stories or to participate, click here.