Platero and I: Father

I have always known my father as a man with a beard, Platero.
He was a proud man—always mounted the fiercest stallion, never a simple donkey like you.
I sometimes saw him standing in front of the mirror with small scissors to remove rebellious or – with years passing – white hairs.
As a child I thought it was a fake beard, but I never risked tugging it.
According to the customs of this country it is up to the eldest son to remove the beard of the father, the undertaker said yesterday.
Guess what, Platero, it was real after all.

Author Notes: Hervé (°1968 – Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and he hasn’t stopped since. Generally he writes them hatless and barefooted. Illustration by Julie Platteau

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