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
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.
Life, no possibility of parole? I think his nod got them all out of prison.
Geez, what a family.
Just an everyday tale of everyday folk.
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.
Maybe, indeed.
And insignificant?
Maybe, but tasty.
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.
Thank you, Corina, an expert analysis of the situation.
Your time and thought are much appreciated.
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.
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.
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
Lots of questions, Perry, but no biscuits left now.
Thanks for visiting.
Wonder if the daughter takes after the dad, and his cold heart!
Maybe dad has more compassion than it seems at face value.
He grants mummy’s last wish, with his full support?
By golly, he got her down from there with biscuits to spare.
Bully! Well done, my friend.
Thanks, Russell.
And don’t say anything, but there is another packet in the car.
Dark chocolate!
Chilling end. Maybe the believe in life after death or something like that….
Well done!
Thank you.
Maybe they just believe that enough is enough?
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.
Thank you, Lillian, for getting so involved in my little story.
This is what makes writing so worthwhile.
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!
I love ‘Wow!’.
Whatever the motives, the biscuits seem to be more unsettling than the plunge!
Daughter will have scars forever.
DJ
Although not as visible as mummy’s!
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.
Very good summation, my dear Dale.
This could well be the story behind the story.
Why, thank you!
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.
Thanks Paul.
I am happy that it gave you pause for thought at least.
No words to describe — maybe the usual — creepy and chilling. Poor daughter.
She has biscuits, she is cool!
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.
Thank you, my dear Indira.
Perhaps he was fulfilling his wife’s last wish?
I didn’t thought of that angle but it doesn’t fit.
Dear CE, Not much of a visit. What a cold and calculating man. Well done.
You might look at it another way, like blessed release for all?
But I always appreciate your thoughts and input, thank you.
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.
‘heartfelt Ouch’ and ‘disturbingly good’ works for me, GaH.
Thank you for again taking the time to visit and comment.
Expertly and very powerfully narrated Sir. I worked as a nurse in a remand prison for a few years in Geneva. These events happen.
Thank you, sir.
But I do wonder about you and Graham sometimes…
As well you should! We always seem to be together these days 😉
Wow – brilliantly done within the word count.
Wow – thank you.
Excellently delivered.
Thank you.
I have a feeling that the narrators burden has been lifted… chilling way to bribe the child with biscuits.
No point in going hungry, Bjorn, just cos mummy topped herself.
Great piece of writing. That last line is chilling.
Thank you, Irene
Heart stopping.
There are so many ways to go. Well done.
No!
Don’t stop!
Thank you.
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.
Words of praise from you, Sandra, mean more than you know.
Thank you for taking the time to comment so thoroughly.
That was a very powerful story and so well done! I hope the daughter copes well.
Probably dies in a car crash on the way home.
C’est la vie.
Very powerful. You’ve left me worrying about the daughter’s future. Good writing.
Don’t fret, she doesn’t have one.
100 words finished.
That sounded really cruel until I read the last 3 words and reminded myself she’d only existed in your imagination (which, come to think of it, would have been pretty scary while it lasted).
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
You dared and you did!
I am always happy to impress you, m’lady.