Ted was standing tall, the knives pointing downward.
As he stared at his son, it hit both of them at once; this was the act that finally severed any bonds between them. He had drawn his knives out of fury, but now he coldly accepted the fact that it was all over. Of course, the severing had begun that day the boy bit him for attacking his mother. It had only been a matter of time before the threads uncoiled.
Ted had never really felt the young man in front of him was his son anyway, but now, having drawn the knives, he knew a primitive pain. It was the unknown bond that was always there, that would never really be broken. It was an ancient feeling, the love between a parent and child, a stubborn link that was as mysterious as it was strong.
But now it was gone.
As they gazed at each o
