Flora liked to press her nose up against the workshop windows and watch the men working. In summer, when the doors were open, she played on the threshold, making mountains from the sawdust and stick people from splinters.
Workers fed planks to the machines and pressed each sheet, until blonde curls fell around their feet, as if the men were hairdressers, not carpenters. The boxes they hammered together were stacked five-high, awaiting collection. Flora tried to imagine her mother laid out in one of them, but the picture wouldn’t stick; even after five years, her mother was still out there somewhere, still swimming.
***
For those who don’t know how Friday Fictioneers works, this picture (this time supplied by me!) is our inspiration for our weekly online writing group hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Click here to read other people’s amazing stories or to join in. And please comment below with any suggestions for improvement on mine.
That’s beautiful Claire 🙂
Thanks Helen. Glad you enjoyed it.
Love the image of the men as hairdressers and the blond curls and a very poignant last line.
janet
Thanks for having a read, Janet.
Claire love the photo first of all and the story secondly. Coffins carved through the eyes of a little girl and her subsequent denial. I too choose to believe her mother is swimming. You imagery was fabulous- mountains of sawdust, stick people from splinters, blonde curls of wood falling from the planker. Great!
Ah, thanks so much. I think the workshop does really make coffins. It’s in a Somerset village called South Cadbury.
Great picture for this week’s prompt–and a surprise revelation in your story that the workshop was producing coffins. The poignant tie-in with her mother works well as a conclusion.
Thanks, glad you enjoyed it. I think the workshop does make coffins, in real life.
Wow! You have a whole lot going on with the imagery and the vision of your mother to find out her body is lost. This is a well put together story.
Thanks, glad you enjoyed it.
blond curls, such fantastic imagery. your descriptions are always so good. i like child’s great need to know where her mom is.. to the point of envisioning her in a coffin.
Can you imagine how awful that must be – the not knowing… Thanks for reading and commenting kz
I would like this several times over if I could. As a piece of flash, it’s almost perfect.
Aw Etienne, that’s a very nice thing to write. I’m very glad you enjoyed it. Claire
Beautifully done!
Thanks, Catherine.
The ‘blonde curls’ was a deft touch! Wonderful. Well written as always – I enjoy coming to your submission each week. And a great photo too!
Thanks Sandra. Glad this one worked for you.
Great descriptive piece.
Thank you Mr Binks
This is fantastic, Claire! I love how you never mention the word coffin, nor does the photo imply it – the *gasp* effect is wonderful.
I also agree that the touches of curls and hairdressers, the girl playing in the sawdust are spot on.
I wonder if “five years” is necessary, though. It took me out of the story to try and figure out how old the girl was, when until then it didn’t matter. Love the image of her mother still out there swimming. < 3
I think you might be right about the five years. And as someone else pointed out, if she remembers her mother that would make her about 10 – perhaps too old for the kind of playing she’s doing. Thanks for your comments.
Gorgeous imagery with this story (and gorgeous picture!)
Thanks Sarah, glad you enjoyed it.
Claire
This is a great story.. The details of the curls especially so. Only little detail if I may say so is the 5 year since the mother died. Which would make the girl about 8.., but maybe she has stayed childish after the loss of her mother… Hmmm
You’re absolutely right, Bjorn. I hadn’t thought of that. If she remembers her mother she might even be 10 – too old to do the kind of playing she’s doing perhaps. I think this is going in something longer, so I’ll bear that in mind. Claire
Awesome picture and story! Thanks for sharing with all of us.
Thanks, glad you enjoyed it.
Claire
I have a lovely image of this little girl building a make-believe world out of the cast-offs from the workshop, clinging to the hope that her mum is still out there somewhere.
Thanks. Flora grows up to be a very positive person.
Claire
There are things we don’t think of — professions that we forget exist — like coffin makers.
What a beautiful and sad story, darling. Well done.
I’m not writing this week, but I’d love it if you’d drop by my blog for a second anyway, I posted a big announcement today
Thanks Helena. Sounds intriguing – I’ll definitely drop by.
Claire
This is such a good story, Claire. I can even smell the wood shavings.
Thanks Linda, glad you enjoyed it.
Claire
Very touching…
Thanks.
Thanks for the photo and loved your take on it 🙂
Thanks, glad you liked it.
Claire
Great picture prompt this week, and a sad surprise to your story. The irony between Flora’s love of the shop and her mother’s fate is very affecting.
Thanks Perry, glad it gave you that reaction.
Claire
This was a lovely story, a perfect depiction of the innocence of childhood.
Thanks Patrica. Glad you enjoyed it. Claire
Dear Claire,
Great picture. Your story is heartwarming and gut wrenching by turns.
Shalom,
Rochelle
I’m very flattered you chose it, and pleased you enjoyed my story. Claire
Beautiful imagery here Claire and a lovely story though my heart bled at the lil girl’s loss!
I don’t like to think I caused you distress – but then that’s what writing it all about – trying to create an emotional response in your reader. Thanks for commenting.
No,no Claire,you did not cause any distress-it was the reader in me responding to the emotional trauma in your piece and you are so right,unless a writer is able to invoke different emotions in his/her reader through his/her writing,no point in writing,is there? :-)You succeeded in doing that through your story and that is awesome:-)
Such a poignant story. Beautifully done.
Thank you. Glad you enjoyed it. Claire
a beautifully written scene although a sad line runs through with the mother not put properly to rest. i enjoyed this story and your lovely photograph. thanks for sharing, Claire.
I think Flora isn’t even certain her mother is dead. Glad you enjoyed it, thanks for reading.
Claire, your photo has been a source of inspiration for me, all week! I love your story, the way it brings the saw mill to life through the eyes of this grieving child. You make the scene so real and vivid! I love it.
As you know, this photo brought some very interesting events for me this week. I ended up writing my story for the Tipsy Lit competition (tomorrow) based on the images and thoughts that came from this photo… great job inspiring us all! Where is it? I’m dying to know.
Yes, I’ve never heard a picture having that effect – that in itself would make a great story… The picture is of a workshop I passed on a walk in South Cadbury, Dorset, England. The sign above the door said that he was also an undertaker, so I think coffins are actually made on the premises. It was just a really atmospheric room, so I took a picture as I was passing.
It would make a great story! The photo has taken me a long way, in writing, this week. Thanks!
Claire,
this story is beautiful, though sad. There is a certain unreality to a coffin, when you think of it as the eternal resting place for someone you knew and loved and was active and alive. It’s an odd concept, really. But that’s life (or death). Thanks for the picture. 🙂
-David
Coffins are peculiar things when you think about them, and even more so for a child, I think. I’m glad you liked my story. Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment.
Claire
Beautifully told poignant story. Sad without being sentimental.
Thanks. I’m glad you felt that. It’s a fine line. Claire
Claire, thanks for supplying such a great photo for us to work with. The imagery you created, as seen through the eyes of a child, is beautiful too.
Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it, and hope you found inspiration from the photo. Claire
Oh yes… I can’t think of my dad in his willow coffin. He will always be out there, painting, writing and smoking his cigars. This was a lovely, sad, poignant story. And thank you for the photo that has inspired us this week.
It’s much better to think of the people we love doing the things they loved. Thanks for reading and glad you enjoyed it. Claire
This is beautiful. The story is lighthearted initially and the imagery is fun, and then the last line just left me speechless. Great job
Ah, I’m glad I caught you… I love it when writing / reading works like that. Claire
Still swimming. That little phrase sent my imagination into overdrive.
Thanks Dawn. I’m glad it got to you. I love it when it only takes two words… Claire
Claire, this was a great picture to write about. I like your take on it. Thanks for the entertainment! Nan