(Author’s Note: My job is a tough one. It doesn’t leave me with much time to actually spend writing more things. I come home from work, and I am really tired. We’ll see what happens. In the meantime, here’s today’s fictioneers.)
© Liz Young
Grandpa was never the same after we discovered the faded tombstone out back.
“I loved her. Love was the only crime I was guilty of. They can’t take that!”
We didn’t know what happened, but the words “throat cancer” and “1965” were constantly on his breath.
For weeks, he wouldn’t do anything except sit on the bench near the makeshift grave he made all those years ago.
One morning, we walked outside to see him hugging the gravestone.
“Grandpa, breakfast is ready!”
We walked over to shake him. He was cold, and he was gone.
Fiction with Video, Friday Fictioneers | Tagged
1965, assisted suicide, backyard, bench, crime, Friday Fictioneers, grandparents, grave, Guilty, loss of life, loss of love, love, mourning, Outside Edge, true love |
copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Open The Door
*bang bang bang*
“Carole, why won’t you open the door?”
“I don’t want to come out! I’m scared!”
“Scared of what?”
“I’m scared of what the world will do to me?”
“Honey, that was 15 years ago. The people who accused you of the crime have long since left the area.”
“But everyone else is still there!”
“Sweetie, if you don’t come out of there, I will have to come in and get you.”
“You don’t want to do that, James. You could be the next one.”
“Carole, I made you a werewolf. What could you do to me?”
“I could have your litter…”
Friday Fictioneers | Tagged
crime, dark, Door, fear, insanity, light, open, Open The Door, pleading, sadness, werewolf |