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Monday, 23 November 2015

First of the Month Fiction - December

For newcomers, write a 100 word story exactly, or one less than 30 words, in the comment section - then link your blog.


Disappointment
They mumble a lot, and it can be noisy, the old man thought irritably. It can be confusing. New people turn up almost daily. They just can't keep staff. Otherwise, he liked it here, for the most part, he mused. It's clean, and it's sunny.

The young man pulled back the curtains. "Dad, it's me, Paul" He searched in vain for recognition, a flash in the eyes, that perhaps today his father remembered him for an instant. "Dad?" He stayed chatting cheerfully for awhile to the old man who stared through him.
He would return home yet again broken-hearted.

(This was a reject from Museum of Words - it's not fab but I kind of like it, so here it is)  Linking with #WWU and later #WeekendRewind
Your turn:

15 comments:

  1. I like it too. It has so much potential for a great story. How many of your 100 words do you develop into more? #teamIBOT

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  2. Awww. Takes me back to my aged care nursing days xx

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  3. Great piece.... my father had dementia so I could very much relate - though thankfully it was just his short term memory that was the problem. He could recognise us just had no idea what he'd just done!

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  4. I have someone in my family suffering from dementia at the moment so this really struck a chord.

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  5. Must go and investigate said Museum of Words. I like it too. Can't imagine what it would be like to lose someone before they die.
    Dani @ sand has no home

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  6. Mr O Yeally lived in a shack that he built himself, up the mountain, past the roads. You couldn't even get a horse up there, you had to get out and walk. People said he'd lost his marbles. They said he didn't even wear clothes in the summer.
    Cynthie used to lie on her back in the orchard, monolithic cumulous clouds sailing by over her head, looking in vain for a glimpse of Mr O Yeally's bare bum. You coud see the roof of his dwelling between the masses of foliage if you squinted until your eyes were almost closed.

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    1. The character of Mr O Yeally was originally a vignette in the book that I am writing, but I had to cut him, as he didn't really have context. I do retain a fondness for him though, and he will find his way into a short story. Thanks for the linky uppy :)

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  7. It's funny how characters persist in your head, even when you have nowhere for them to go...def the making of his own story! Will let you know when Museum of Words opens again. There were over 36k entries in 4 different languages. 2 Australians did well, I think.

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  8. A beautiful piece Lydia. Very touching.

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  9. I like it too.
    I'm prefacing by saying I'm writing from a hospital room where one of my kids has had surgery, and after learning someone I know died today, so excuse the emo.
    When the pack of cards fell out of her bag, her heart dropped with them.
    How could it have only been three weeks?
    She had bought the cards, thinking they would play at the hospital, but they never did. He was too weak by then. His hands too feeble. His arms unable to lift them high enough to see the numbers.
    She had forgotten she had them; all the endless moments of these past few weeks she had had them with her. Her final gift ungiven. And he -- the one who had always been so generous with her -- was gone.

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    1. That's lovely but so sad. And so true.
      I'm sorry for your loss, so swiftly after your father. And I hope your child makes a fast recovery. You are bearing a lot at the moment. Thank you for swinging by.

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  10. Let her come home he’d pleaded with the doctors and his kids. He couldn’t stand to see his wife of 54 years stuck in that damned hospital. Yes he knew she was dying, they’d both smoked since he could remember and the emphysema had bitten hard making her breathing so laboured it hurt to listen to.
    He was glad he’d won the argument. She didn’t have long left but she still had a smile, she still got to savour their morning ritual of a cup of tea while he read her the highlights from the newspaper.
    They kept their dignity.

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    1. Did you add my blog? That's meant to be for YOUR website...or leave it blank....:)

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