The Glory of a Fallen Giant

Fiction

Photo by cdd20 on Unsplash

Bernie’s strong hands massaged my hair with a medicated dandruff shampoo, soothing an itchy scalp.

“Time for a rinse,” he said. “Close your eyes, Sam, so it doesn’t burn.”

I closed my eyes and yawned.

“I’m sleepy,” I groaned. “Put me to bed.”