The Visit – Friday Fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by the wonderful Rochelle, the undisputed master of what I call Sound Bite Fiction.
She sets the weekly challenge, and the standard.
This week’s unswept image by Amy Reese took me to a surprising place.
Well, it surprised me, anyway.
The idea, as always, is to write a story of around 100 words based on the picture, below.

Copyright Amy Reese

Copyright Amy Reese

The Visit

I take our daughter to the prison.
We wave to mummy, obviously cannot touch her here.
She is in for life, with no possibility of parole.
She sees us, raises her hand.
I give Jeanie the biscuit packet.
Don’t eat them all, baby, I say.
We stand with the governor and some warders, gazing upwards.
How long has she been there, I ask.
They ignore my question, tell me to talk to her.
I move away from them, gesture with my head.
She steps forward, plunges to the yard far below.
We walk to the car, munching a biscuit each.

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59 Responses to The Visit – Friday Fictioneers

  1. granonine says:

    Life, no possibility of parole? I think his nod got them all out of prison.

    Like

  2. luckyjc007 says:

    Maybe he knew she was going to do it. The nod of the head was an o.k. …do it, I understand, your life is over anyway. The biscuits are probably insignificant.

    Like

  3. Corina says:

    I really liked this one. I think it does show compassion for the mother, and for the daughter. Well, for all involved. As for the biscuits, doesn’t he have to go on like everything is normal for the sake of the child, if not for his sake? Besides, she has been gone from their life for some time, apparently, so she has been out of the picture anyway. He’s just resuming their life without her. Well done, as usual.

    Like

  4. Margaret says:

    I’m feeling torn with this story. I’m hearing your replies about how the husband really feels, and in the start of the story I can detect his softness and love for his family. For me,so much depends on what sort of head gesture he gave her. I read it at first as one that said ‘It’s alright. Do what you have to do.’ But the biscuit munching kind of undercut that. It’s a tragic scenario regardless, and so well described.

    Like

    • ceayr says:

      Thank you for your kind words, Margaret, and please ignore my comments.
      They are generally obfuscatory, and depend entirely on my mood.
      I am flattered that you gave so much thought to a 100-word piece, and I think you are pretty close to what I intended originally.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Wonder what the mother did to create such a bizarre scene, and whatever will become of the dad and little girl. Hand me a biscuit, huh? Fascinating as usual

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  6. Vinay Leo R. says:

    Wonder if the daughter takes after the dad, and his cold heart!

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  7. rgayer55 says:

    By golly, he got her down from there with biscuits to spare.
    Bully! Well done, my friend.

    Like

  8. ansumani says:

    Chilling end. Maybe the believe in life after death or something like that….

    Well done!

    Like

  9. lillian says:

    Oh my. The biscuit….such a commonplace small item of food….really of no significance when you think of the many options one can take with on an outing or sit down to the table to eat. The juxtapositioning of the biscuit to what is happening….a cold chilling desolate feeling emerges. The child, the biscuit, his utter removal from the situation even though he is present. Very well written.

    Like

  10. I hesitate to use “chilling;” it’s been said and said again. However, the cold callowness of the story does strike a particularly cold nerve. The biscuits take the whole story up a notch. Wow!

    Like

  11. Danny James says:

    Daughter will have scars forever.

    DJ

    Like

  12. Dale says:

    Cool, calm, calculated. And so those left behind no longer have to wait and deal with whatever it was that got her in there in the first place. La vie continue.

    Like

  13. paulmclem says:

    Has left me with mixed emotions. Without knowing what she did it’s hard to know if this was a good or bad happening for the planet. Either way good story.

    Like

  14. mandibelle16 says:

    No words to describe — maybe the usual — creepy and chilling. Poor daughter.

    Like

  15. Indira says:

    I thought there may be some reasons but his indifference and the last line killed any feeling for him. In 100 words you write so well.

    Like

  16. Dear CE, Not much of a visit. What a cold and calculating man. Well done.

    Like

  17. gahlearner says:

    Another heartfelt Ouch! from me. A hatefull divorce is nothing compared to this… taking the child along kills all understanding I might have had for the husband. Another disturbingly good story.

    Like

  18. Graham Lawrence says:

    Expertly and very powerfully narrated Sir. I worked as a nurse in a remand prison for a few years in Geneva. These events happen.

    Like

  19. Wow – brilliantly done within the word count.

    Like

  20. I have a feeling that the narrators burden has been lifted… chilling way to bribe the child with biscuits.

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  21. Great piece of writing. That last line is chilling.

    Like

  22. emmylgant says:

    Heart stopping.
    There are so many ways to go. Well done.

    Like

  23. Sandra says:

    The casual tone of the narrator – killing. His indifference is expertly conveyed by the ‘don’t eat them all, baby’ and the head gesture. Not to mention having enough biscuits for the journey home. Chilling is not the word for it. Well done – it seems an inadequate phrase for this.

    Liked by 1 person

  24. d3athlily says:

    That was a very powerful story and so well done! I hope the daughter copes well.

    Like

  25. JS Brand says:

    Very powerful. You’ve left me worrying about the daughter’s future. Good writing.

    Like

  26. Dear CE,

    That was one way of ending her life sentence. The nonchalant tone of the husband adds particular chill to the story, as does the last line. Dare I say, well executed? Nothing less than I’ve come to expect.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

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