Moonsong Glacier worship

His voice was jovial, grating through a smile that teetered on a grimace.

Are you happy with yourself?

The words scraped his throat on their way out. On every level he knew it was an unfair, cruel question, and he hated himself for speaking it into existence.

Back home his father had always strived to turn the other cheek, so that every confrontation was another excuse to step deeper into his self-imposed personal misery. But being so far from home infused the air with wild possibility. In the repetition of domestic life they were father and son - what were they now? He saw the faint glimmer of pride in his eyes and was struck with hate and love for this man, a man who he once had regarded with nothing short of devotion.