Mom?
That was a close one. Zeno almost did a roundhouse kick on her. To be fair, his 'mom' didn't resemble him at all. She was quite short, around 5'2", yet she stared at Zeno as if she were eight feet tall. Their similarities were hardly striking; it seemed he had inherited his looks from his dad. Just then, a man even shorter than his mom emerged from the restroom, wiping his hands on his dark-wash jeans.
"Oh, son. You're here?"
He definitely hadn't inherited his looks from this guy either. It must be the dead dad his friends had mentioned on his first day as Zeno. He looked down at the two of them—both a foot shorter than him.
Zeno pursed his lips and scratched the back of his head. It still ached, a reminder that his mom had done a number on him. Just how heavy was her hand?
