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Slack.com slash DHQ. My childhood was mostly a blur. I never had the best memory and my

childhood was also pretty uneventful. So there isn't too much for me to remember anyway,

at least. It's that's what I thought. And then, about a week ago, I remembered them.

He was a spindly man with limbs, so thin they looked brittle. Like they would break if

bent the wrong way. Big a twist in them in all sorts of unnatural directions. In his

face, he was gone. With his cheeks sunk deep into his skull, but he was always smiling

always. He had a red dot painted on each side of his sunken cheeks. Little like a clown.

And then there were his eyes. Now I remember the day I saw him. I remember every detail,

which is rare for me. I was six. My parents were taking me to my grandmother's house. She

looked fairly close, but it had been several months since I'd last seen her. It was dusk.

We're going for dinner. Like most grandmothers, mine was an excellent cook, so I was looking

forward to it. We arrived and after the usual comments about how tall I was getting, we

had dinner. I don't remember what it was, just that it was delicious. I scarfed it down

within a couple of minutes. The problem was that there wasn't much for a kid like me to

do at grandma's house once I'd eaten. There was plenty of books, but I couldn't read

it yet. So I asked her if she had any toys. She smiled at me. He told me to check the

closet in the guest bedroom, where she had stored all the toys from when my dad and his

...