There was a power cut when Hedda brought Rex home from the hospital. Flora had been sitting in the dark on the verandah waiting for them, breathing in the sea’s tang mixed with honeysuckle on the warm evening air. She lit a candle and they helped their father into bed with barely ten words spoken between them.
Flora had thought it had been the candlelight hollowing out his eye sockets, gouging craters into his cheeks and throwing grotesque shadows upon the bedroom walls, but in the bright light of morning Rex’s face hadn’t changed. She knew it wouldn’t be long.
***
For those who don’t know how Friday Fictioneers works, this picture (this time supplied by Renee Heath) is our inspiration for our weekly online writing group hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Each story is only about 100 words long, so why not read a few others: click here to read some more or to join in. And please comment below with any suggestions on mine, or just to show you’ve visited.
I like how you tell the story with such indirect means… we all know the full story without you actually have said anything.
Thanks Bjorn. Showing without telling in such short pieces is sometimes tricky.
Not everything looks better by candlelight. Another nicely understated piece that tells without telling.
‘Tells without telling’ I like that – thanks Sandra.
I’d missed Rex. Glad to see him back, although it sounds as if he might be kaput. Oh, and I like the new site/skin – nice and bright 🙂
Thanks Paul. Rex is a big part of book two, he’s going to be around for a while yet…
Very well-described,
Thanks, glad you liked it.
I love how you describe his face at the end there, and how much story you tell without ‘telling’ us any of it. My one comment would be that I struggled to get a grip on who everyone was in the first paragraph. I’d have liked “father” to be a bit nearer the beginning, because I was left wondering whether she was bringing home a baby or an invalid.
That’s a good point. These characters are part of something bigger, (although I’m definitely trying to make each 100 words stand alone) and so it’s easy to make too many assumptions about what readers know already.
Splendid bit of writing, Claire. So appealing yet so filled with inevitable loss. Your description of the veranda made me want to be there.
janet
janet
Thanks Janet. I was sitting on that very verandah over the Easter weekend and it was lovely.
Your use of strong words: gouging, grotesque, hollowing – bring this story to a deadly focus.
It’s interesting when you list the words like that, I hadn’t even noticed. Thanks for reading and commenting.
You’re welcome
Nice job. Portrays a vivid picture of an entire family in very few words.
Thanks Perry. Glad you liked it.
Claire
Claire, Good, descriptive writing that places us at the scene for this sad time in a famiy’s life. Well done. 🙂
Susan
Thanks Patricia. Glad you liked it.
Wonderfully told with such beautiful yet understated simplicity.
Thank you. Really pleased you liked it. Thanks for commenting.
So much spoken in so few words. Beautiful…
Thank you. Really pleased you liked it.
Poignant. Well told.
Thanks Patrick. Glad it struck a chord.
Claire
Poignantly sad and packed full of meaning and emotion. Nice.
Thanks, glad you liked it.
Claire
Dear Claire,
A lot said and shown in few words. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thanks Rochelloe
You manage to capture the atmosphere so perfectly in so few words. This is a wonderful piece of writing!
Ah, thanks for your kind words. I’m glad you liked it.
VERY powerful, Claire! This one is really amazing… in so few words! The “sea’s tang mixed with honeysuckle on the warm evening air”… Gorgeous! Haunting piece; I love it.
Thanks, I’m pleased you liked it.
Great observation; as I get older, and sadly encounter more people at this stage, I begin to recognise a certain draining of essential ‘juices’ (I’ve put inverted commas because it doesn’t seem an appropriate word) that makes the approaching end visible.
There is something that leaves, isn’t there? Thanks for reading and commenting.
Claire
Sad story, sounds like the final days of a long illness. I loved your description of Rex in the candlelight.
I think it is. Thanks for reading, I’m glad you liked it.
Claire
Very sad and expertly done. I reaaly look forward to reading your stories. The descriptions in this were so clever.
Thanks, glad you liked it.
Claire