TOMMY’S FATHER
By Beth Carter
Twigs snapped beneath Mia’s feet. Every weekend she and Tommy hiked in the woods. Suddenly, Mia’s young son stopped and pointed.
“Look, Mommy. There's Fred Flintstone's couch!”
Mia followed Tommy’s gaze and her eyes filled with tears. She had avoided this area for five years and had mistakenly taken the all-too-familiar path.
“Yes, honey. That does look like Fred Flintstone’s couch.”
Cold air combined with heavy memories caused Mia’s nose to run. She sniffled and rubbed Tommy’s head. He had never known his father; he had never known the man who had proposed to Mia on that very slab.
A day before their wedding, then-pregnant Mia had discovered a cryptic note from John: I’m sorry.
Sweet and poignant story, Beth. Thanks for sharing. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Siobhan/Meg! I appreciate your stopping by. I'll check yours and the others tonight.
DeleteSo sad. Here's mine: http://postcardfiction.com/2012/02/17/flash-friday-simple-pleasures/
ReplyDeleteThank you, Janet. I guess I was in a strange mood. We actually have a stone table in our woods and I always call it the Fred Flintstone table. That was my inspiration.
DeleteHi Beth: Tommy's Fred Flintstone line gave me a chuckle. Your last line blew me away. Here's mine: www.triplemoonstar.blogspot.com
DeleteGlad you enjoyed the Fred Flintstone remark, Lora. I really liked your story and left a comment yesterday. Well done.
DeleteGosh. :'(
ReplyDeleteGood write.
Sorry to bring you down. But thanks for stopping by! This didn't really happen. :) Although plenty of sad things have...
DeleteHi Beth,
ReplyDeleteWe seemed to be thinking along the same lines on this one, though the way we present our story is completely different. There's a nice contrast between the happiness and playfulness of the child, and the sadness of Mia. Nice piece of writng!
Here's mine: bridgesareforburning.wordpress.com/
Thank you, bridges are for burning! I'll check yours now.
ReplyDeleteThis is a very, very good drabble. It is open-ended enough to make me wonder if he just ran out, or if he suicided. I enjoyed the flow of this piece quite a bit.
ReplyDeleteI know you've been to my drabble all ready, but I'll just leave this here should you choose to revisit: http://quillshiv.wordpress.com/2012/02/17/reading-tree-leaves/
Thank you very much, Rinn. If I had had more than 100 words, I would have said John seemingly vanished into thin air except for that cryptic note: I'm sorry. So I envisioned him as bolting, cleaning out his apartment, disconnecting his cell, and so on -- not suicide, but you're right, this could go either way. Nice observation!
ReplyDeleteHey, send me your address please to bethcarter@hughes.net
I loved the six-word memoir you submitted for my Valentine's Day contest!
Beth--Good thing you said it was fiction. I'd have to track the rascal down and administer a bit of Karma! :-)
ReplyDeleteYou're so creative--love how your mind works on every prompt. Mine, http://vsta.pr/zMx9VT.
This comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteThanks so much for the kind comment, Ginny, and for offering to track the guy down if this were true. I'll check yours soon.
DeleteDear Beth,
ReplyDeleteWhat a heartbreaker of a story. Humankind is not, at times.
Aloha,
Doug
http://ironwoodwind.wordpress.com/2012/02/17/ask-ulysses/
Aloha, Doug!
DeleteYes it was a bit sad. Really sad, actually. Thanks for stopping by. Off to check yours now!
Doug, did you find my comment in your spam filter? Wordpress and Blogger do not play well together, it seems. I leave comments for several (always the ones who comment on mine and more), alas some of them don't "take."
DeleteI really like your line about the murderously heavy rock thudding in the prison wagon. Vivid image. Thanks for stretching us. Great writing!
A very sad piece, Beth. Looks like Mia's going to have some explaining to do when Tommy's older. At least she'll have a pretty place to do it.
ReplyDeleteSo true, Elmowrites. Tommy will want the truth sooner rather than later, won't he? Thanks for stopping by.
ReplyDeleteJohn wasn't exactly a rock was he? (pun intended) I loved the Fred Flintstone couch. Nice work, Beth.
ReplyDeleteNo, John was a dick! Thanks, Russell. I loved the Flintstones as a kid!
ReplyDeleteVery sad story. I think the rock must have looked lonely there because we've had a lot of sad ones for this prompt. You brought me there with that mother and I ached with her. But she doesn't seem to harbor the same amount of anger I'd have under similar circumstances.
ReplyDeleteThanks for commenting, Madison. As someone who went through a bad divorce, I can tell you that time does heal. Five years later, Mia was in a still sad but healing place.
DeleteThat is such a good story, Beth. I never would have thought of something like that. naturally, I'm so far behind again. Hopefully I can come up with something for the next Friday. But if think of something before then, I'll come back and post it.
ReplyDeleteThank you for finally stopping by! Lol. I'm glad you're giving it a try, Shirley. Checking yours now...
DeleteDid it! Fun stuff. I'll try not to be late next time.
ReplyDeleteHere's the link:http://shirleymccann.blogspot.com/2012/02/friday-fictioneers-although-bit-late.html
Great job. Nice twist! I commented.
DeleteAt first, I smiled, because I saw Fred Flinstone's couch in the photo prompt, too. But what a sad turn your story took. Very poignant and well done. Still, I have a sad face. :(
ReplyDeleteMust be our age that we both saw Fred Flintstone's couch in the photo. :) Thanks for your comments, Jan. I know. Sad story. Such is life at times...
ReplyDelete