Friday Fictioneers led by Rochelle is back for the new year (and so am I)! If you’re new to Fictioneers or this blog, the idea is to write a story with only 100 words inspired by the picture posted each week. Feel free to read along—just click the blue froggy at the bottom—and join in!
“It was different then,” she said tremulously.
I shared a pained smile with my older brother. Mom remembered everything differently now. I didn’t see anything special about the roofless wreck with a set of stairs leading straight into the murky water.
“I double checked,” Trip said to me in a low voice.
“He brought me here before the war,” Mom said.
Trip and I shared a look.
“Who?” I asked.
“Richard asked me to marry him here. He said he couldn’t wait until after the baby.”
I swallowed hard. Trip was a nickname. He was legally Parker Ian McCoy III.
Vers Les Etoiles 
Dear Wanderer,
Heckuva way to find out your someone else’s son. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Like many of your stories, this one requires the reader’s full attention — I hope you get it, because there’s a sadness here that is rich and bitter. There were a couple of things that could have made it clearer — she could have said “your dad brought me here before the war….” but then, I get the sense that the mother is “remembering everything differently now” suggesting that maybe she’s suffering from dementia, or just absentminded.
Well, the point was that the man that brought her was not the kids’ father—to their knowledge. But it was hard to make this one clear in so few words. I’ll think about some tweaks
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what a shocking revelation at the end. great story.
Thank you!
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Yes, it is a horrid way to lose your mind, but how do you know what to trust. Anything could come rolling out.
That sound you hear is the sinking of a heart! Wonderful!
So, she didn’t marry Richard?