Missing you: A 50-word short story
This is my story for this week's 50-word story prompt, fence.
For some odd reason I am really inspired by this prompt, so I may need to do more than one. Fences are sometimes beautiful, sometimes frightening. They are symbolic of many things: protection, separation, seclusion, oppression. And they can make one feel safe or caged in. Just searching Pixabay for the word "fence" prompted so many story ideas that I've decided to use this word as a prompt for some of my longer works.
This story is inspired by real life. As a mother of teenagers, I am always letting go, always finding that balance between reining in and setting free. Sometimes no matter what approach we parents take, the necessary reining in -- no matter how loving -- can create strife.
Without further ado, my story....
Missing you
(Image credit: CC image from Pixabay)
Your satchel is by the mud room door, your softball mitt peeking out. I still remember the smack when you socked that ball to outfield. Your dusty cleats, one lying on its side, haven’t moved from that spot since you leapt the fence and were gone. Please, come home soon.
Thank you for reading!
Here's my collection of 50-word stories:
Storm at sea
The confrontation
Light in the woods
Lost
Rod’s Bait and Tackle
Hank’s sudden change
Mystery of the snowbank
Going below
What remained
In that moment
The space between
Elsie’s view
Just a tree in a field
Nathan’s waterfall
A walk in the woods
The church mouse
The farmers' market
The tiny hunter
The map
Ghost fair
Departure from Castle Island
Conspirators and lies
Getting to know you
The man in hiding
Mermaid dreams
Time to say goodbye
A heart-breaking write and poignant 50 words, Jayna. Well done:)
Thank you very much, @prydefoltz! I actually felt a little teary as I wrote it. We can't keep our children from growing up and moving away from us. It creates an ongoing sense of loss. But I am very thankful because in real life I'm very close to my kids. (Only one ran away once, and only for a few hours!) They are moving away from me, yes, but I know they will stay connected and for that I am so thankful.
Since this is sad and melancholy, I will reach back into my distant melancholy memories. Your word choices remind me of my dad. When I was young, he always used to call my backpack a 'book bag', and my duffel bag was a 'satchel.' As a kid, I thought those were terribly uncool terms. I think he did it on purpose.
Oh those things seem so important when you're a kid. It's funny, now I think parents do sometimes irritate their kids. I think it's out of a fear of being ignored. You can't ignore me if I'm irritating you!
I grew up in Portland, Oregon where there was a constant penetrating damp and most days it rained just in time for us to set off for school. My mother used to make me wear "galoshes" and I knew I would die from embarrassment if any of my friends saw them. I contemplating running away from home just to avoid being forced to wear them. Instead, I cleverly learned that I could take them off and ditch them in the bushes as soon as I was out of her sight and then pick them up again on the way home.
This work makes me look lost and want to go home...lol
Well done @jayna
Thank you, @olakunle10! Yes, everyone should go home. 😊
Exactly @jayna
Such an emotional image painted here. Well done @jayna
Thanks so much, @cizzo!