Through the open window, she saw Josh and Teddy sitting on the grass. With curly hair entwined, they pressed foreheads together in battle. Father and son. Their laughter carried to her on the warm breeze as she set the phone down. She wouldn’t tell Josh today. Please, God, can I never tell him? Test positive. Malignant. Inoperable. How could she speak those words to him?
She stood watching them play, Josh now on his back with Teddy straddling his stomach. Josh was so young, so strong. Stronger than she was, she had always thought, but now questioned. How would he take the news? She felt numb, as though a part of her had known the results before the call and started the preparations, recording the sequence of events to come on her mental calendar and programming her responses. Her detachment was already in progress.
She ducked to the side as Josh sat up and glanced toward the window. “Where’s Mommy?” she heard him ask. He would stand now, lifting Teddy to his shoulders and he would come to her laughing, carefree, as if the world had no end. As if no evil thing that wrapped around your brain and sucked the life out of it existed. As if their beautiful son would be with them forever.
Good story, with a gentle but heart-wrenching twist. Well done!
Thank you, Cathryn, it wrenched my heart too. I don’t know where it came from, but it scared me afterwards.
“Through the open window” is such a great prompt. And you capture, well, one of the ways we make windows work for us – as a veil to hide behind and with which we can detach.
Thanks for sharing your work!
Thank you, Christi. I didn’t remember this at the time I wrote this piece, but now that you brought it up, was it you or Cathryn who questioned the distance you were creating for a character by having her watch everything through her window?
Love it and hate it. Well done.
Thank you, V.V. and I feel the same way about it.
Love the twist. I’m not good at those. It was chilling to read — especially “Her detachment was already in progress.” — which took on such a different meaning when I reached the end. Well done.
Thank you, Susan. I think I get these sorts of tales because my brain is a little twisted. I wrote it so quickly that I barely thought about it, but then it gave me a chill too.
Linda, this is remarkable writing. Honest and powerful.
Thank you, Darksculptures, I really appreciate that.
So many comments piled up because I was gone from home all afternoon and I hate when only my face appears over there under Then YOU Said … like I sit here talking to myself all day (hmmm) … anyway, excuse my bolded responses within your comments.
Wow, Linda…just wow. Beautiful, and sad. Thanks for sharing with us.
Thank you, Kayla, and thank you for reading it.
powerful. powerful writing.
Thank you, Mary.
So good. So sad. Well done!
Thank you, Candice.
Wow! Very powerful.
Thank you.
So sad. Loved the juxtaposition in the story.
Thank you, Dennis.
[...] year will end. Stay tuned.) But back then, I dared myself again by trying a writing challenge: a micro flash story. And I wrote it from a prompt, which is something I hadn’t done for decades. It was so much fun I [...]