A Microfiction Story on Loss, for Friday Fictioneers

WARNING:

My wish, with my fiction, is never to harm or cause a traumatic flashback, but rather to express empathy, teach, show, embolden, entertain, and/or, when appropriate, enrage or frighten. That said, be aware that this microfiction story contains a disturbing aspect of physical (child) abuse and raises aspects of sexism and rape. If these are triggers for you, you might want to skip reading this.

Leviathan windows by Rochelle

Photo by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

 

WHAT DOESN’T DESERT HER

Genre: Realistic, literary fiction

WORD COUNT: 100

©Leigh Ward-Smith

Lorraine stands at the sink fronting purposefully leviathan window panes, mind muted by the task of sanitizing everything. The scene outside beckons her backward.

Philip’s hands choke. “Yer not my real sister. Yer a-dop-ted.” She feels the words going ’round and ’round, cords across her neck, binding her chest, encircling her belly, and twisting into a terminus snaking her legs.

Once, she shows momma Blanche the marks. “Boys can be rough. Just don’t let ’em touch you there.” She points.

Suddenly self-aware, Lorraine reaches for ceaseless drops, bending the fog around her body.

Wishing for comfort but feeling only gauze.

THE END


 

Hello. I’ve been away from actively blogging for awhile (but still writing and submitting and waiting and hoping!), and then I returned, oh, about two weeks ago and was struck by severe pagefright, after hammering out about four different posts, two fiction/poetry and two evergreen/nonfiction. Then I saw Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ weekly Friday Fictioneers prompt and this microfiction story clamped onto me and wouldn’t let go (and so I moved beyond the blank page). I hope I’ve succeeded in presenting a decent story that makes you feel something. Thank you kindly for reading my very short and disturbing story; I am more than happy to receive feedback on it as well, and will make every attempt to do the same for other FF stories.

In the meanwhile, please take a look at the other Friday Fictioneers’ postings and provide constructive feedback whenever you can; also note that Rochelle’s newest book, From Silt and Ashes, is available now via Amazon. I have her short story collection—This, That, and Sometimes the Other—and do readily recommend it, so I’m sure the novel will be similarly well written and moving.

Advertisements

17 thoughts on “A Microfiction Story on Loss, for Friday Fictioneers

    • Thank you so much, Mary. Rochelle’s challenges are never easy and they bring up a lot of memories and issues, but I think I have improved heaps, craft-wise, from doing them. Wishing you & your family a peaceful holiday season, wherever you are (that is, I’m not sure if you’re traveling currently)!

    • Dear Rochelle, Thanks for mentioning that From Silt and Ashes is best enjoyed after reading Please Say Kaddish for Me (hear that, people?! go get both now!). Hope you and yours had a beautiful Hanukkah.

  1. So glad you unfroze from page fright to write this contribution to Friday Fictioneers. Sadly, back in my days of psychiatric nursing, I met far too many people destroyed by this sort of abuse. They are like broken china that you can roughly glue back together but never get rid of the cracks totally. Brilliantly written as usual, Leigh.

    • Thank you, Sarah. You’re very kind. I’m at once glad to hear it seems to ring true and disgusted I have to write about such things, if you know what I mean. Art embraces that weird dichotomy and adds alchemy.

      • I feel like that re elements of my not-yet-published “Counting Magpies”. Am waiting to hear what David Milligan-Croft has to say, when he has finished beta-reading it. I think we have to write about such things, as in your story, because they’re not issues that should be brushed under the carpet. The more they’re put into words, the more likely the victims of such will find the words to express their feelings about what has happened to them.

  2. Bonjour
    Mon premier passage sur ton blog
    Vois-tu il y a des jours sur un simple sourire
    On peux rendre la vie plus belle
    Si le mien de sourire peux te faire cet effet
    Alors je reviendrais encore tant faire
    C’est une envie de te faire plaisir et t’offrir du bonheur
    Je t’envoie une grosse envolée de bisous d’amitié
    Bonne et agréable journée Bernard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s