(100-word flash fiction)

He couldn’t get the image out of his mind. For months.

It kept dragging him back, by his collar, to his childhood. Bounced, bloodied and bruised, between foster homes, like a battered ball. An apt analogy, considering the kicks he had endured.

There was only a single, faded photo of his from back then. His last girl friend had mused about it, “Even though you had your hands in your pockets, it looks as though you were crying desperately for help.”

That’s exactly what it looked like – the white, bleached, skeletal hand sticking out of the sand.

Crying for help!


Darned life, keeps getting in the way of my writing. But I decided to court the Muse this week and not let her go until she delivered 🙂 Lovely to be back among the fabulous Friday Fictioneers, shephered by the fabulouser Rochelle 😀

Photo prompt –

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields


31 comments on “Hand

  1. Dear Joyful

    I’m a little confused by the white skeletal hand. Did he witness or commit a murder? At any rate, it’s good to see you back. I’m glad the muse won the wrestling match. 😉



    • When I saw the prompt, it reminded me of a skeleton or rather just the hand of bones sticking out of a sea of sand. Seeing it reminded him of his childhood and how he was in a constant state of crying for help. No, he didn’t witness or commit a murder. I was thinking about visual associations. How we see something and it instantly takes us back to a past memory. It happens to me in a nice way all the time. 😊

  2. What a dreadful childhood he had, and it sounds as though his adult life is pretty poor. You write ‘his last girlfriend’ so presumably no current girlfriend, and obsessed by an image that represents all that was most painful and frightening about his childhood. Poor guy!

  3. When I saw the title, I thought, right, why didn’t I see that hand earlier. What a great take on the prompt. And the story is so, so heartbreaking. Well told.

C'mon, don't be a silent spectator ....

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