Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
The Burden
I have something for you, my darling son, something no mother could ever wish on her child, least of all he who is cherished above all others.
I’ve carried it for so long, I’m weary beyond my years, and it must be passed on before I leave.
You might wonder why you, not one of your sisters.
They’re older than you, yes, and stronger, but with this they could never marry, have children.
You alone can bear it and survive.
Trust in our gods.
If this is your last memory of me, flower of my life, please don’t hate me…
Oh dear! Can he pass the parcel on??
I don’t think it’s a physical parcel…
Dear C.E.’
You leave one wondering what legacy she’s left her son. Nicely written head-scratcher.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Every head needs an occasional scratch, m’lady.
Hmmm…what is it?
I’m not telling someone like you!
lol
What? WHAT? More than scary, I would say!
It’s okay, Chris, it’s just a story! Well, based on what happened to me long ago and far away…
Oh, this sounds ominous.
Oh, I like ‘ominous’!
I’m intrigued, very intrigued. Too intrigued, I need to know more!
Very too intrigued? Jings, I hope you had a lie down afterwards, And then bought lots of my books!
what a responsibility to take, whatever it is. i hope he’s up to it.
I wonder if anyone is…
I hope there’s a sequel to this because now you’ve held me in suspense.
Never can tell…
Such dread, raised so high in so few words. I’m chilled!
In this weather? You’re bliddy lucky!
😂
A legacy of hope.
I like your positivity, James
I loved the atmosphere of this
Much appreciated, Neil
A compelling mystery, you build the suspense so well. Now I’m eager to find out what the burden is, why it prevents the sisters from marrying, and why only the son can survive it?? 🤔
Tune in next week…
Or, better still, buy one of my great books!
So many possibilities of what the burden might be.
We each have our own individual one, don’t we?
Yes, and if you’re lucky, there’s only one.
Ooh, such emotion and tension balancing beautifully on the tightrope of mystery, and all in 100 words.
I bow.
Laughing. It’s no’ bad, is it?
For me, this opens up more questions than answers.
If it makes you think, my job is done.