"Love you, daddy!" the boy said, a tear forming in his left eye, as he waved to Father. "Why aren't you getting in?!" It was difficult to hear his tiny voice over the roar of the approaching fires.
"I love you, son!" yelled Father. The boy's escape pod was about to close. "There's no room! Don’t worry, I'll catch the next pod!"
The door slammed shut. It was the last thing he ever said to his son. And it was a lie.
There were no more escape pods. He looked at his son's big, sad eyes as long as he could as it went off into the distance.
Father gave up the last seat on the last pod for his son, not just because he wanted his son to go on to live a long, happy life. But also because he wanted him to grow up to be a better man than he had been.
157