Tag Archives: parents

November 18, 2020

Shadow Chat

Mia watched the shadow in growing frustration. Her mother was speaking in their shadow sign language, but the silhouette of her blowing hair kept obscuring her hands.

“I can’t understand!” Mia shouted.

Her mother’s hands dropped, then formed a heart.

A cloud passed over. When the sun reappeared, she was gone.

Mia’s father found her sobbing ten minutes later.

“I just want to see her again.”

“Me too,” he said. “But she’s dead, honey. I envy your gift of seeing her shade in full sunlight.”

He surreptitiously picked a long wig hair from his sleeve and went to hug her.

4 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Ghost, parents, shadow, sign language | posted in Dusk, Friday Fictioneers

June 1, 2020

The Ones Left Behind

After an hour, I gave in and texted again.

Did you have supper? It was after breakfast, mid-evening over there.

No reply. My heart beat faster, irrationally. His friend Amber was there too. She’d learned Vietnamese, he’d said.

The phone chimed. I jumped for it.

“Is that Stan?” my husband asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah.”

He came over to read the reply.

Yep!

A picture popped up of a glowing building and a lotus flower fountain.

“It’s gorgeous,” I said. “My lucky little boy. Still, I worry.”

“He’ll be fine. After all, he’s nine now. He’s not a baby anymore.”

This Friday Fictioneers story is very late, but since Rochelle chose my picture this week as the prompt, I wanted to make sure I wrote one. I took this picture in Ho Chi Minh City when I was there on business a few months ago. I wrote a kid’s book about my travels called Stanley and Amber in Southeast Asia, about a kid and his unicorn friend traveling around Southeast Asia (it started out as a Flat Stanley project for my niece; thus, the name). So, I thought I’d write this from the parent’s perspective.

25 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Flat Stanley, Friday Fictioneers, Ho Chi Minh, parents, Southeast Asia, Stanley and Amber, Vietnam | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light

May 3, 2017

When the Cat’s Away, the World Might End

By David Stewart

It’s final exam week here at my university and as I sit here and proctor a reading exam, it seemed like a good chance to write some flash fiction. This is dedicated to my sister, whose birthday it is this Friday.

“Maybe I should call them.”

“Don’t call. They’ll have a great time home alone. We’re in France. Relax.”

“We should have brought them.”

“It took five years to save enough for us to come. We’d never save enough for all of us. Just go take a shower, get dressed up, and we’ll hit the town.”

She’d scarcely shut the bathroom door when he called internationally.

“Hey Dad,” his eldest said. “The plumber stopped the leak, but it’ll take a week to dry the basement out.”

“Okay. Call the insurance company. And do not tell your mother until we get back.”