Well, it’s Friday Fictioneers time (write 100 words inspired by a phot prompt provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields) and I’ve decided to write a story about death, darlings. Much ado was made about my prologue to last week’s entry, particularly my attitude toward death.
Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear, or perhaps as the discussion went on, my thoughts became more distilled. It was not death that I was objecting to, per se, but rather, the trend of simply writing the easiest tale imaginable each and every week, and one of those just happens to be the jilted lover tale. Man catches wife cheating, cuts her up into little pieces and feeds her to his pet (insert animal, actual or fictional here). Or, woman catches man cheating, decides to poison him (even I have written this story, darlings, so fear not — the challenge is directed at myself as well). There are other popular trends, but that one is just the most… well… offensive, both in its ability to offend and its frequency of offenses. The other trend is the forced twist ending.
A twist ending is only a good twist ending if it clicks with the rest of the story. When you read the last line of a story and it changes your perspective on the whole tale — that is, you realize that this has been true all along, you just didn’t see it at first.
I hope that my tale this week illustrates that.
Marta didn’t know how long the soldiers had been gone; she only dreaded their imminent return.
“Please,” her daughter cried, watching her wrap a towel around rotten bread. “We need to leave, Mama.”
Marta feared to look in the corner of the room; refused to acknowledge what lay there. Instead, she stared out her door, at the abandoned streets that lay bleeding like a rape victim. Faded bunting from celebratory parades hung from the roofs like old spent semen.
“Get your father, mija. It’s time to go.”
The girl collapsed in the corner and wept into her dead father’s chest.
100 words exactly.
Be sure to read as many of the others as you can, and give comments as comments are due.
Incidentally… just as an afterthought – this is my 300th post.