What cared she of style? He was going to be a father she told him bluntly and without passion, with a look on her face that made him recoil. A casino in Oklahoma was not the place for such news. Especially since he had just lost $500.00 at the craps table. He left that night and headed for Louisiana and never looked back, until now.
Note to self, take off italics.
"Are you my father?" the voice asked, warily but with a hint of excitement. "I don't know, am I?" he replied. When he turned around, nothing could have prepared him for the sight his eyes beheld. For, right before his eyes, which were red like the blood running through his tired veins, red like the cape held by that bullfighter he dimly recalled seeing in Tijuana many years ago, red like the traffic light he had run at age 17, setting in motion the chain of events that landed him at this very precise spot in time, stood his mirror image, but one from what could only be called an alternate universe.