| General Fiction posted July 7, 2020 |
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Short Story /What happened -prompt?
Milestones
by zanya
'Just pick up the pieces,' a voice whispered from among the small group of family and friends gathered at the graveside.
Donna stood, sobbing, pale-faced in her widow's weeds.
Her son, nine-year-old Charlie, squeezed her gloved hand tightly.
An icy January wind whistled through the bare trees.
Anger rose inside her. How could anyone know how she felt today, interring her beloved husband, Paul, after a two- year illness?
Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to smile as the group departed.
Tom, her older brother took her arm in his as they walked cautiously among the tombstones.
'Tom,' a voice called from behind, 'happy I was able to make it back for your brother-in-law's burial. Hard to believe another one of our old school football team has passed on.'
Tom stifled a tear. 'David,' he said,' so glad you could make it.'
David's voice was unmistakable.
Donna remembered that night at the school hop when he introduced her to Paul.
Was his the voice at the graveside admonishing picking up the pieces?
David, more than most, perhaps, had the best credentials for offering such advice. His beloved Anya had passed away just days after the birth of their stillborn child.
Donna blotted her tear-stained face.
Quietly David slipped an arm through Donna's as the childhood trio walked again, in step, through the cemetery gates.
What Happened? writing prompt entry
'Just pick up the pieces,' a voice whispered from among the small group of family and friends gathered at the graveside.
Donna stood, sobbing, pale-faced in her widow's weeds.
Her son, nine-year-old Charlie, squeezed her gloved hand tightly.
An icy January wind whistled through the bare trees.
Anger rose inside her. How could anyone know how she felt today, interring her beloved husband, Paul, after a two- year illness?
Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to smile as the group departed.
Tom, her older brother took her arm in his as they walked cautiously among the tombstones.
'Tom,' a voice called from behind, 'happy I was able to make it back for your brother-in-law's burial. Hard to believe another one of our old school football team has passed on.'
Tom stifled a tear. 'David,' he said,' so glad you could make it.'
David's voice was unmistakable.
Donna remembered that night at the school hop when he introduced her to Paul.
Was his the voice at the graveside admonishing picking up the pieces?
David, more than most, perhaps, had the best credentials for offering such advice. His beloved Anya had passed away just days after the birth of their stillborn child.
Donna blotted her tear-stained face.
Quietly David slipped an arm through Donna's as the childhood trio walked again, in step, through the cemetery gates.
Donna stood, sobbing, pale-faced in her widow's weeds.
Her son, nine-year-old Charlie, squeezed her gloved hand tightly.
An icy January wind whistled through the bare trees.
Anger rose inside her. How could anyone know how she felt today, interring her beloved husband, Paul, after a two- year illness?
Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to smile as the group departed.
Tom, her older brother took her arm in his as they walked cautiously among the tombstones.
'Tom,' a voice called from behind, 'happy I was able to make it back for your brother-in-law's burial. Hard to believe another one of our old school football team has passed on.'
Tom stifled a tear. 'David,' he said,' so glad you could make it.'
David's voice was unmistakable.
Donna remembered that night at the school hop when he introduced her to Paul.
Was his the voice at the graveside admonishing picking up the pieces?
David, more than most, perhaps, had the best credentials for offering such advice. His beloved Anya had passed away just days after the birth of their stillborn child.
Donna blotted her tear-stained face.
Quietly David slipped an arm through Donna's as the childhood trio walked again, in step, through the cemetery gates.
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Writing Prompt Write a story that starts with: "Just pick up the pieces..." |
 Recognized |
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