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The little boy’s head was resting peacefully on his lap, when Walter closed the book and put it away.

Nap time was their special grand-pa to grand-son moment every day, since Walt had moved in the apartment just upstairs from his dear daughter Lilly. She hadn’t agreed at first, perhaps feeling that having her old dad living so close would be a bit suffocating.

But when the doctors had confirmed little Thomas’ condition, he had insisted. He and Lilly knew very well the level of care the little angel could require, as he would grow up. Laurie, his eldest daughter had been pretty much like Thomas, although back then, nobody really spoke about autism.

Walter softly ran his knotty fingers in the little boy’s hair, and smiled. Even if, at the age of five, he didn’t speak yet, they had developped an uncanny bond.

Thomas needed a tight schedule to feel comfortable, and when he noticed his grand father wasn’t sitting in the living room when story-time struck, he would chase him around the house, and gently pull on his shirt.

At first, Walter had read the child actual books. But he had come to know what lit up his otherwise empty-looking gaze.

Now, he prefered to open a book, and create stories of his own. Trying to stimulate Thomas’ imagination as much as he could.

Watching his grand son sleeping, Walter just hoped that in his dreams, Thomas was with him walking among a magical forest of cloud-painting trees….

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Via Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge