I didn’t intend it but whoops, here’s a flash fiction for you to enjoy.
A facebook post from a friend and a comment from another made me realise that some of you actually enjoy these. I’d intended to do one on the weekend but, the muse took hold and well, you know.
Chuck Wendig at Terrible Minds is responsible once again. The prompt this time was paint colour names, I chose Burnt Tile. It wrote itself, no idea where this story came from except my Pa did have a shoe shine box like the one in the story.
The word count was supposed to be 1,000 but ended up as a smidge over 1,800. Oops. But , oh well.
First bit here, click for the remainder, you know you want to!
‘How about these Nan?’
My granddaughter extracts four or five tablecloths from the depths of the linen cupboard.
‘I don’t think I’ve seen you even use these.’
I can remember my baby sister Maisie embroidering those tablecloths, sitting on the big bed we shared with Edith, fantasising about the fabulous man she was going to marry. Two years later she was so proud hosting Stan and I to dinner at her new home with her young husband. Her table was beautiful, the tablecloth and napkins ironed and immaculate. We barely got to know Pat, five months after that dinner he would be at the bottom of a foreign ocean, entombed forever in a submarine. Maisie never remarried, never had children.
The tablecloths came to me eight years ago when the cancer finally took her.
‘They can go to good will sweetheart, unless you want them?’
The rest is here, it’s worth it, go on click!