Gone

Gone

(100-word flash fiction)

Gone.

The feel of soft child-cheek pressed against her crinkly one.

Gone.

The laughter, petty fights, uncoordinated singing, at family gatherings.

Gone.

Her daughter’s daily phone calls to complain about her husband.

Gone.

The unhappiness in her grand-daughter’s eyes and the lurking fear when her step-father was around.

Gone.

The secret that young Noah hid from his parents which was slowly tearing him apart.

Gone.

Her entire family on a cruise on which a bug came visiting, killing them all.

If only she had gone with them.

Her memories now slip-sliding from her grasp. Soon, they too will be gone.

***

I had wanted so badly to write a happy, playful, joyful story in line with Christmas but the muse didn’t oblige. I think my muse is Covid-obsessed ☹ A year ago this would have read like a horror story but now it reads like a true story. We live in such strange times.

Happy Holidays, dear fellow FFs. Eat, drink and be merry (with appropriate social distancing) 🙂 Thanks once again to the delightful Rochelle, for keeping FF going so expertly. ♥

Photo prompt –

Copyright Trish Nankivell

The ghost

(100-word flash fiction)

She cannot recall when she lost her voice. As in, she would speak but no one paid any attention. The teenagers, indifferent, her husband, always on the phone.

Then, she became a ghost. In the room, but un-present, unseen, ignored. A cooking-cleaning ghost who got attention only when the food was too salty and the toilet paper ran out. Little did they know. She considered buying chillies in bulk, for the food and the toilet paper.

When her husband brought his lover home and made love to her in their bed is when she went looking for a butcher’s knife.

---

The scarecrow not having a mouth gave me this idea. It looks a bit ghostly too.

So many women in different cultures live without a voice, with no agency to exercise their choices. I wanted to write a more hefty story, with more punch and power to bring home their plight, but this is all the muse’s giving me at this late hour.

Many thanks once again to the lovely Rochelle, the helmstress of Friday Fictioneers.

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

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The ride

(100-word flash fiction)

Sharp slivers of pain slash into his chest. His breath grows ragged.

He looks sideways at his grandson. The 10-year-old is rapturously immersed in the steeplechase ride.

“Exactly how we felt,” they say, “each time you put a bullet into our chest.”

Despite the pain, he is amazed he is hearing voices above the din.

“You’re going through the stab of death each one of us felt.”

It dawns on him the voices are in his head.

“You’re going to be abjectly helpless.”

The pain reaches a crescendo. The ride, the voices, his heart, all stop at the same time.

***

Apologies for not responding to your comments on my last post. Work has been busy leading up to Christmas. Thank you Rochelle for yet another excellent prompt for Friday Fictioneers 😊

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Broken eternity

(100-word flash fiction)

“We are for eternity” that was their mantra. The only vow they exchanged, ever.

His presence is almost palpable. His fingers on her skin, like wind caressing a lake, cascading ripples of pleasure. Rain like goosebumps on water, making her shiver.

“We were for eternity” she says aloud into the lonely night, hugging herself. “You broke your vow when you broke your neck.” Everyday for four years now this has been her mantra.

As if in answer, the room fills with flashes of lightning. Drumrolls chase each other across the skies.

“Ding!” says her phone. Tinder has found a match.

***

The lines in the photo did remind me of ripples and the untied eternity sign gave me the title. Thank you Rochelle, for another round of Friday Fictioneers. I hope everyone in the US enjoyed their Thanksgiving break, despite Covid. 🙂

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

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