Copyright D Lovering
Homecoming
The whole town was there, standing in hushed anticipation for the return of Senor Najera’s son from the war.
“He was wounded,” someone whispered. “Hit by the enemy’s new weapon.”
The ship approached, the gangplank descended, and Mateo Najera appeared. The crowd gasped.
The rags of the once-proud army uniform were stretched over the misshapen, hulking figure that shambled off. One huge eye lolled at them, roaming witlessly.
Senora Najera tore from her husband’s restraint. “Stop!” he shouted. “What if he’s contagious?”
“He’s still my baby,” she said and ran to embrace him until her tears wet his festering skin.
The Green-Walled Tower 
April 9th, 2014 at 6:20 pm
Man…what kind of “new weapon” was this? Poor Mateo, I can only imagin the hell he must have seen and been through. You also did an excellent portrayal of a mother’s love!
April 9th, 2014 at 6:24 pm
Some sort of mutating weapon, although I wanted to leave it vague, along with the time period.
April 9th, 2014 at 6:45 pm
Dear David,
How you come up with such stunning and well-written stories in such a short time is beyond me. Is it any wonder I look forward to your offerings every week?
Shalom,
Rochelle
April 9th, 2014 at 10:19 pm
Thank you so much, Rochelle. Your comment made my night. 🙂
April 9th, 2014 at 7:00 pm
Dear Dave,
I sit here and read the ‘Let me know what you think’… and wonder. The second sentence reassures me, so here’s a one word change that might, at the very least, fascinate the writer in you. Move the word ‘still’ from its place at the beginning of the sentence to before the word ‘festering’ near the end. Now read both versions and listen to how each sounds. (This is about the craft, not your story, which is a good one and full of atmosphere, anticipation, dread and, in the end, love.) Very nice.
Aloha,
Doug
April 9th, 2014 at 7:33 pm
‘…until her tears wet his still festering skin.’ Won’t that change the meaning of the sentence altogether?
April 9th, 2014 at 10:43 pm
Doug, I was telling the truth; I really do appreciate any comments and criticism you have for me. 🙂 I actually rewrote that last paragraph several times, trying to get it right, so it probably still could use improvement. I think it would work like you suggested but I decided to say “He’s still my baby,” to emphasize the current situation, since at first I just said, “He’s my son.”
Anyway, I do like talking over this stuff. I wish we lived closer so we could sit down and talk craft over a cup of coffee. 🙂
April 9th, 2014 at 7:32 pm
‘He’s still my baby’… beautiful. My mother in law once said shw would still love her boys, even if they were murderers. Now I have a son of my own I understand that. Captured beautifully Dave!
April 9th, 2014 at 11:49 pm
I also agree with this. A mother’s love knows no bounds. Or, to quote Margot Kidder’s character from Smallville: “Martha, the only challenge to a father’s will, is a mother’s love.”
April 10th, 2014 at 8:45 pm
Fathers love too, but there is nothing quite a mother with her baby, at whatever age.
April 9th, 2014 at 7:33 pm
This is great. It feels epic in 100 words; a very difficult trick to pull.
April 9th, 2014 at 10:19 pm
I often find that I get an idea for these that seems to need a lot more room, so it’s difficult to cut it down. Glad it worked for you.
April 9th, 2014 at 7:58 pm
A mother’s love. Very touching story done in a few words.
April 9th, 2014 at 10:18 pm
Thank you, that was what I was going for.
April 9th, 2014 at 8:07 pm
Hell of a weapon, and a great story. Very moving in fact.
April 9th, 2014 at 10:18 pm
Thank you. Yes, it sounds like a terrible weapon, although humans are great at coming up with worse ways to kill and maim each other.
April 9th, 2014 at 10:21 pm
painful ending. very well written like all your stories!
April 9th, 2014 at 10:43 pm
Yes, painful. It’s good she accepts him, unlike his father, but there’s no easy future ahead for any of them.
April 10th, 2014 at 5:03 pm
That is where a mother’s heart is special 🙂
and the heart of a true lover.
April 10th, 2014 at 8:33 pm
Indeed. A mother is (or should be) unconditional.
April 12th, 2014 at 7:59 pm
agreed. where are you? on another haunted house trip with wife? 😀
I am becoming habituated of your regular dose of stories…
April 12th, 2014 at 8:00 pm
I’m posting something tonight. 🙂
April 12th, 2014 at 8:26 pm
good 🙂
April 9th, 2014 at 10:26 pm
Good story with the kind of description that puts you at the scene. 🙂 Let’s hope we never come up with a weapon like that. 😦
April 9th, 2014 at 10:44 pm
Eep. Yes, let’s hope not.
April 9th, 2014 at 10:38 pm
What a heart wrenching story on so many counts David!The price that wars exact from us is so high and yet we human beings continue to hate and plot!So loved the way you brought out a mother’s love -selfless and pure-a ray of sunshine in such dark times!Superbly crafted!
April 9th, 2014 at 10:46 pm
Thank you so much. 🙂 Yes, war is terrible, but luckily humans are not totally depraved; there is always some light in the darkness.
April 9th, 2014 at 10:48 pm
Yes,that is what keeps the rest of us alive 🙂
April 9th, 2014 at 10:51 pm
I think that a weapon like that is one that I do not want to consider.. actually the radiation can do hideous thing to a person.. so probably it could happen..
April 10th, 2014 at 8:52 pm
True, there are already some pretty bad weapons, but I’m sure we can always make worse ones.
April 9th, 2014 at 11:12 pm
I’m torn between horror, disgust and sympathy. And curiosity about that weapon 🙂
April 10th, 2014 at 8:51 pm
That was the range of emotions I was going for. And yeah, I’d rather not speculate about that weapon. Sounds like a much worse version of mustard gas.
April 9th, 2014 at 11:32 pm
Oh, wow, David — what a cool story — like the origin story for a plague. I had visions of a diseased wreck, deformed nearly beyond recognition, except to his beloved mother.
Good job!
April 10th, 2014 at 8:46 pm
Thanks, Helena. You got what I was going for exactly; I’m glad.
April 9th, 2014 at 11:47 pm
Great story, but very sad.
April 10th, 2014 at 8:45 pm
Yes, quite sad. What’s worse is that there are similar true stories all the time in real life. The aftermath of something like that would be very hard to live with day after day.
April 11th, 2014 at 1:20 am
Indeed.
April 9th, 2014 at 11:53 pm
You did a wonderful job of changing a festive scene to a nightmare.
April 10th, 2014 at 8:44 pm
Thanks. 🙂
April 10th, 2014 at 12:00 am
Truly remarkable, Dave. And STILL, she sees him as her own. Wonderful!
April 10th, 2014 at 8:41 pm
🙂 Thanks.
April 10th, 2014 at 12:48 am
you always come up with the coolest stories, David. 🙂 a sweet and sad ending.
April 10th, 2014 at 8:41 pm
Thanks, K.Z. Looks who’s talking. 🙂
April 10th, 2014 at 12:59 am
Wow! It’s eerie how similar our stories are!
You painted a vivid picture of the war and a mother’s love!!
April 10th, 2014 at 8:40 pm
Thanks. I’m on my way to read yours now.
April 10th, 2014 at 1:49 am
David, I agree with what’s already been mentioned. I like the open-endedness, although the eye gives it a sci-fi, futuristic feel. But the reactions and feelings are universal. As for “still”, I like it where it is. 🙂
janet
April 10th, 2014 at 8:40 pm
I think I would have described it more if I had had more space, but the effect came across in any case. I was debating between alternate universe 1600s and futuristic, but it doesn’t really matter.
April 10th, 2014 at 2:35 am
Yet another fab short, I love reading your take on the prompt each week 🙂
April 10th, 2014 at 8:39 pm
🙂 Thanks Helen.
April 10th, 2014 at 3:24 am
So much expressed in so few words…great job David!
April 10th, 2014 at 8:38 pm
Thank you, Madhu, and thanks for reading. 🙂
April 10th, 2014 at 3:45 am
Great, ghastly images and I like the mystery of not knowing quite what the new weapon is – chemical or magical, I can’t quite decide. I liked the mother’s love too. All very vivid.
April 10th, 2014 at 8:38 pm
Thanks, Jen. I wanted to make it vague, partially since there were no words to describe it in detail and because then the reader can fill in their own interpretation. Something terrible, in any case.
April 10th, 2014 at 7:51 am
Awww..I loved that ❤
April 10th, 2014 at 8:37 pm
Thanks. 🙂
April 10th, 2014 at 7:58 am
So much left unsaid for us to infer. I wish I could read more of it. Nice piece David, as always. 🙂
April 10th, 2014 at 8:37 pm
When I started writing this, it seemed like it needed at least 500 words to really tell the story, but that’s how I often feel. It’s a good exercise to work under such strict limitations.
April 10th, 2014 at 1:27 pm
Dear David, Oh a Mothers’ love! No matter what has happened to her baby, he’s still her baby boy! This is wonderful writing and such a great story. You are really one of the best writers in this group (not just my opinion either). Honestly – great!
April 10th, 2014 at 8:34 pm
Thank you, Nan. I really appreciate your comments; they made my day. 🙂
April 15th, 2014 at 7:11 pm
I agree with Nan. I know when I come here there will always be a well-conceived, quality piece available to read.
April 10th, 2014 at 1:32 pm
This touched my heart! Fantastic story!
April 10th, 2014 at 8:33 pm
Thank you! Glad you liked it. 🙂
April 10th, 2014 at 11:29 pm
Wow! very powerful, especially in such a short space.
April 12th, 2014 at 7:33 pm
Thank you, sir. 🙂
April 11th, 2014 at 1:02 am
People do come back from war damaged in all ways. And mostly mothers embrace them.
April 11th, 2014 at 3:49 am
Fabulous story! Heartbreaking and touching. One of my favorites this week.
April 12th, 2014 at 7:32 pm
Wow, thanks Lisa. I’m glad you liked it.
April 11th, 2014 at 4:21 am
A heartless father, and a mother who sees passed the disfigurement, to the son she will always love. Very atmospheric and compelling. Great job.
April 11th, 2014 at 4:27 am
David,
Overall, I enjoyed what you did with the prompt this week. The story is clear and colorful. In a couple of spots, your writing doesn’t read as smoothly as usual. I stumbled over the phrase “that shambled off.” At first, I thought the problem might be the word “shambled.” On second look, I wonder if you cut part of the phrase that would have made the entire sentence clearer when you edited the story to fit the word limit.
I also stumbled on your final line. “To embrace him until her tears wet his festering skin.” reads awkwardly to me. I noted that Doug also mentioned this. To me, the festering skin was a bit strange as it seems to change the POV, but the entire line seems clunky.
In short, I still like the story, but it’s not quite up to your usual standards.
All my best,
Marie Gail
April 12th, 2014 at 7:24 pm
MG, I knew when I read the word “overall” there was going to be a “but” after it. 🙂 I appreciate your comments and I agree that the ending is a little flat. At least I thought so too when I wrote it. I kept rewriting it, but always hit against the word limit. I guess not every week can be a winner, right? 🙂
April 13th, 2014 at 12:40 am
As much as I would love for every flash to be a flash of sheer perfection, you’re right. And I think you could do wonders with this in even just another 20 words. You may have noticed by now that I am not a slave to the 100-word limit, although I work to keep it under 120.
Cheers!
MG
April 11th, 2014 at 5:58 am
a face only a mother could love. well done. the word “until” in the last line suggests that she stopped, but i don’t think she stopped, right? so if “i ran until…” that suggests i then stopped. well, i guess she literally did stop, so i’m now arguing against myself.
April 12th, 2014 at 7:23 pm
It could mean that, but I meant it here as in, she didn’t stop before that point, that she went to that extent. But yes, she must have stopped at some point, I suppose.
April 12th, 2014 at 11:14 pm
yeah, i just argued myself in a circle. pay no attention to the man chewing on the curtain. happy saturday.
April 11th, 2014 at 7:05 am
Again, the elegance of your brevity. I want to go back and cut every one of my essays down to one hardy paragraph.
I have a fantasy of a homecoming when I kiss the ground like the Pope…my beloved waiting in the crowd to embrace me.
This reminded of that…I call it my…I’m finally loved…dream.
No wonder you get so many comments….you’re the Elvis of pith 🙂
April 12th, 2014 at 7:21 pm
Thanks, Susannah. Sorry it took so long to get back to you. I was gone last night, exploring a haunted school with my wife.
I really like the term the Elvis of pith. I’ll assume you’re not just insulting me with a lisp. 😉
April 12th, 2014 at 10:24 pm
I love the term pithy…I heard it used in slang on a West Wing episode…Josh says something like…she’s never quite captured the art of pith….a rough paraphrase….haunted school…like that idea a lot.
April 11th, 2014 at 8:50 am
The best piece I’ve read so far this week. Both a stunning condemnation of war and the unfettered restraints of weaponry and a triumph of humanity as well. Great writing.
April 12th, 2014 at 7:19 pm
Wow, thanks Perry. I appreciate it. 🙂
April 11th, 2014 at 11:25 am
Our stories share the same title, but your story is far more potent and powerful. Well done!
April 12th, 2014 at 7:18 pm
Thanks. I really liked yours too. 🙂
April 11th, 2014 at 9:35 pm
Beautiful story! So much emotion in so few words!
April 12th, 2014 at 7:16 pm
Thanks. 🙂
April 11th, 2014 at 11:22 pm
two days no post… too busy?
April 12th, 2014 at 7:53 am
yep, ill tell you about when I get home. 🙂
April 12th, 2014 at 8:01 pm
Sorry I nagged in the above comment before reading this one. 😀
That nagging is the only price of friendship.
April 12th, 2014 at 8:07 pm
It’s all good. You don’t know how much I appreciate your friendship. I’m not offended at all. 🙂
April 12th, 2014 at 8:27 pm
thanks. so do I, your friendship means a lot to me too 🙂
April 12th, 2014 at 1:04 am
I don’t know if it’s a true story or what but the emotions & imagery make it seem as if it is
April 12th, 2014 at 1:45 am
war is cruel.
April 12th, 2014 at 7:15 pm
too true.
April 12th, 2014 at 12:47 pm
Mateo had it tough… As do many who have gone through war. This took me back to the first time I read Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein”. I really liked the last name Najera. Did it just come to you, or did you take inspiration from something/somewhere specific?
April 12th, 2014 at 7:15 pm
The name isn’t from anywhere, just picked it as a good Spanish name. It is a bit like Frankenstein, just the tension between seeing him as a monster or as who he was; the question of humanity. Thanks for the comment. 🙂
April 12th, 2014 at 7:28 pm
Crammed with emotion – expectation then revulsion and love. Wonderfully done.
April 12th, 2014 at 7:33 pm
Thank you, Sarah. 🙂
April 13th, 2014 at 5:03 pm
Horrendous weapons and a deformed son only a mother could love – perfect story
April 15th, 2014 at 7:14 pm
Well, David, there’s very little I can add to what’s already been said here. I just hope your writing talent is contagious. I’d be just like Mama, give you a big hug and rub the top of your head.
April 15th, 2014 at 10:07 pm
You’re too kind, Russell, but I appreciate it. I am well on the way to being bald, so maybe rubbing my head would even be lucky.