I think he’s a great dad. I smile everything I see him around the neighbourhood. The good dad. He looks like one.
I met him at the bus stop with his little daughter. He wears a black faux leather jacket, and you can tell he’s cold. He looks loving and caring. He is short, a little chubby and bald; he wears glasses. He carries his daughter’s pink backpack. The little skinny girl talks to him. She’s cold too
I see them at the bus stop every morning. It’s very early and still dark, but I guess eight months of the year is dark in the city.
She’s no longer a little girl. I think she even wears make-up. She’s now taller than her good dad.