A Death in the Family
Strangely death and beauty are often companions. Closed lids hid the milky cataracts of his decayed old age. Pearl-pink pads decorated delicately curled feet. I placed a cheek on his curved back and felt the last of his fur-wrapped warmth.
The grave my husband dug on that dark January night made criminals of us all. No, not my granny, I quipped to a neighbour. Tears flowed freely as we said goodbye and buried the box, securing the lid against foxes.
Alone at last; silent house. I open the freezer, reach deep for the wrapped package and cradle the frozen form in aching arms.
M J Lewis 2017
Welcome to the world of Friday Flash Fiction, hosted by the talented writer Rochelle. Thanks as ever to our seemingly tireless host and also to Liz Young for the photo.
The above is partly true – I’ll leave you to decide what is fiction and what is imagination! Thanks to all who visit and especially those who stay and comment.
The Jewelled Locust
The room was almost unbearably hot. A ceiling fan stirred the soupy air listlessly.
My grandmother’s face when she turned to me was yellow, skin taught over sharp cheek bones, eye sockets deep pools of purple.
She indicated the box of jewels. ‘For you and you alone. The very best.’
All I saw was the blood and toil of others, wealth won with deception and malice.
Outside, I opened the lid and handed a brooch to the child who guarded the decaying lobby. Fake emeralds, nevertheless valuable.
Unknown to my grandmother my half-sister and I still speak: different box, same lies.
M J Lewis 2017
Very late to the Friday Feast of Fiction this week, but such a stunning photo, thanks to Shaktiki Sharma. Thanks also, of course, to our esteemed host, Rochelle, and thanks to all who visit, especially those who stay to comment.