Welcome back to the daily prompts. The second for this week.
All of it, tumbling …
Claire stepped back, ready to be pleased with her efforts. Yes, perfect. She puffed out her chest, despite there being no one to see, and called into the next room.
‘Come and have a look.’
‘Come and look at what?’ Churlish voice from beyond the half-closed door.
‘You know! I’ve been working on it all day, you remember what I was planning.’ Trying to keep frustration at bay.
‘I’ll see it later.’ Increased volume on the television.
Later? After her careful planning, measuring, sawing, drilling? And, finally, placing each loved item from her mother’s collection in exactly the right place. A shadow box, replicating her childhood, just like the ornaments.
Claire’s urge to cry with the familiar disappointment did battle with a stronger urge to storm into the next room and throw something – the remote control would be appropriate – at the uncaring bastard. No. Dignity was a stronger weapon, or at least one she could live with later.
She gave the shadow box a self-satisfied smile, and walked, stiffly, to the kitchen. A cup of tea would re-set her mood to happy pride.
‘Don’t think you’ve done this right.’ His condescending tone carried an edge of glee.
Claire rushed to the doorway.
He stood by the shadow box, tweaking a bottom corner, tugging on it, testing it. It held and she let out the breath which had frozen in her throat.
‘Don’t force it–’
‘There! I knew it!’
The corner gave way. Claire’s shadowbox fell, all of it, tumbling, ornaments cascading to the tiled floor in a glass and porcelain waterfall.
A moment of silent finality.
Claire turned, walked back to the kitchen, leaving her marriage tumbling to its death, its sad remnants joining those of her happy childhood.
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Find Cheryl’s flash fiction and short stories (the ones she actually wrote) here!
Snow was falling – all of it in a massive white sheet, tumbling from the heavens without any apparent end.
Susie revelled in it. She loved this time of year, when a white curtain covered the ground and the trees looked like ghosts frozen in time.
Winter in Germany was always so much fun. She could jump around, roll in the cold white powder, make snowballs which she could happily throw at the other kids in the street.
Life couldn’t be better for a 10-year-old with not a care in the world.
Nights were spent curled by a warm, roaring fire sipping hot soup and roasting marshmallows – while days were a wet slog to school, gumboots swishing at each forced step.
It was getting dark quickly during these wintry days and, this particular afternoon, Susie was late for she had been held back at school on detention for disobeying her teacher during class.
She glanced at the lengthening shadows and the frozen trees seemed to grow a little taller. Or was it her imagination?
The snowfall was becoming heavier and she was finding it difficult to see. Susie could just make out the path she normally took on her way home as she trekked through the deepening drifts.
What was that up ahead? Looked like an animal of some kind. Four legs – and a tail. Could it be? No! Yes, it was a wolf and it was blocking her path.
She trudged a little further. Sure enough. And it was refusing to move. In fact, it looked like it wanted to attack – teeth bared in an ugly grin and a low growl coming from its throat.
“What am I going to do,” thought Susie. “The snow is too deep for me to run. He’ll be far too fast.”
Susie stood there, pondering, as the snow kept tumbling.
Lucky wolf!
What a nasty piece of work he is. Poor Claire, losing all her nostalgic childhood ornaments like that!!