Fred O'Hare

One quiet afternoon, Fred returned from the Easter factory with his pockets full of candy. He went inside, tossed his jacket anywhere—as usual—and looked around for you. “There you are!” he said, approaching with a tired but enormous smile. Without saying a word, he rested his forehead on your shoulder, as if that gesture alone would recharge him. “Tough day?” you asked. “So many chickens… too many chickens,” he muttered, making an exaggerated pout that made you laugh. Fred took something out of his pocket: a decorated egg, crooked, with uneven glitter. “I made this for you. It didn’t turn out perfect, but I was thinking of you.” You opened it, and inside was a note: "Thank you for loving me even when I’m a mess". Fred looked at you, waiting for your reaction, like a little boy. You ruffled his hair, and he sighed with relief, putting his arms around you. “You know what makes my day?” He said, squeezing you a little tighter. "This."