We laid our underwear out to dry across the over-grown box hedging. My dangling suspenders and skin-coloured corsets, wrinkled like the corrugated stomach of a worn-down mother. Cara’s nighties and slips, cream silk, taut among the green leaves.
In the night a breeze got up, whistling through the gaps in the window frames. When I looked out, the wind had hold of Cara’s chemise, lifting it and tugging. As I watched, it filled with air, became alive, a torso which let go of the hedge and spun away into the night.
In the morning, Cara too, had gone.
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This is a 100-word Friday Fictioneers flash fiction piece inspired by the photograph (this week from Mary Shipman). It’s been brewing in my head since Wednesday but just wouldn’t come out right, and today I wrote it in half an hour. Click here to read others and join in.
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I interviewed Mr B’s bookshop in Bath, England. Read it here.
ooh, great last line. I love it when it just spills out in a half hour, after hours of thinking about it 🙂
Thanks Samantha. It always feels frustrating at the time – all that waiting, and not knowing what to write, but often it’s worth it.
I know! I hate it when I have a post planned, but it just won’t come together in time and so it is for the next week
Dear Claire,
I love it when a thought finally comes together and spills out. I’ve had many of those sessions. I loved the feel of this visual piece and wonder where Cara and her chemise went. I particularly liked the “corrugated stomach of a worn-down mother.” I’ve had three children. I know the truth of this. 😉 Wonderfully written.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thanks Rochelle. I wonder where they both went too, and were they ever reunited? That stomach (after two children) was written from experience…
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Well, in all honesty, Claire, I didn’t quite understand it (probably a guy thing, judging from the above comments) but I really enjoyed the experience of reading and re-reading it. The poetic feel without it being so obvious is just wonderful. Very taught style and the content is terrific.
I also have had stories brewing in my head for days and they come out. I think we all get that way.
Nice work, as usual. 🙂
Thank so much. A little bit of cryptic-ness (is that even a word) is a good thing I think.
“wrinkled like the corrugated stomach of a worn-down mother” is a wonderful line. The laconic mystery of “In the morning, Cara too, had gone”, in an uttterly different way, even more so
Thanks Neil. Glad you liked it.
I love the way you bring a scene to life, Claire! So often, the story comes to me as soon as I see the photo… but then brews. The writing of it becomes a final piece of the process… not the hard part. 😉 You always make it look easy, with your descriptive, beautiful lines.
Exactly right – the hard part is often the thinking. Thanks, Dawn.
I say great work, Claire! Such lovely descriptions (mother of four) and the last line! I give this 5 clothespins!
Thank you. The description of the stomach is written from experience!
I really love the description, there is a moment and I feel when I read the last line I had to reread the whole story.. actually I think it was that she had left too that made it complete.
Thanks Bjorn.
I recognize these two, and their relationship now is even more intriguing. I love how you show their different characters through their underwear and the way it hangs on the hedge. And as Björn said, the last line rounds it.
Thank you! Yes, these two characters are from the book I’m writing now. Friday fictioneers is so useful for working out the interplay between them.
Wonderful descriptions Claire, and i love the questions this piece raises – where did Cara go? Did he go alone? Or willingly?
Also, isn’t it strange how sometimes an idea won’t come, then it suddenly writes itself in thirty minutes? The frustrations and relief of being a writer!
Thanks TRG. I love it when that happens, although it’s frustrating for days beforehand.
Oh i know that frustration only too well. Sometimes it lasts more than just days
Poor Mum with her worn down clothes and body., and shame on Cara for not saying goodbye.
Thanks Liz.
I liked it. Two people, laid out for the world to see. One blows away with the wind.
What a lovely way of putting it! Thank you.
Great, with the usual, chilling finale.
Thanks, Hilary
Ah! So descriptive once again, ‘corrugated stomach’ is such a brilliant term. Cara probably rushed out in the morning to buy a replacement chemise. 🙂
Hah! That made me laugh. I hadn’t though of that.
Lots of great details, Claire. And the last, of the chemise flying away and taking Cara with her. Well done. It’s always a pleasure to read your stories.
Thanks Amy. Glad you liked it.
What a beautiful piece.
Thanks Fiona!
I love this – both comic and sad! Lovely pictures of the variety of womanhood. I’m wondering if Cara’s following her chemise or running fast in the opposite direction?
Hah! I’m not sure. Thanks for reading and commenting.
strong wind before the storm. that’s what i imagined it to be.
That’s a nice way of putting it. Thanks
was it a get away, hope it was not with ill consequences
http://www.obliqview.blogspot.in
Possibly…
Great descriptions of the scene and an unexpected twist at the end. Well done.
From what I understood, the girl was in the clothing when both it and she disappeared. Very mysterious. Lovely description. 🙂 — Suzanne
Slightly creepy but mostly poetic and exceptionally visual. Such a lovely story to the prompt.
Thank you!