Cutting the Grass – Friday Fictioneers

Once again time to write a Friday Fictioneer’s story. I always aim for 100 words exactly. Take out the napkins, today it’s a sad story.

Friday Fictioneers is a wonderful group of bloggers from around the world who every week gather to write a story of 100 words (more or less). If you want to know more, go to Rochelle Wissoff-Fields page and check it out. If you only want to check out the great stories click the little blue guy at the bottom.

Copyright Sarah Ann Hall

Copyright Sarah Ann Hall



As spring arrives he’s once again drawn back to the old aqueduct. He can still see the beautiful new-mown lawns and recall the unusually warm spring day when he still lived with expectations.

How he and Emily enjoyed the chilled Champagne, and how they cheered for a bright future.

That was before the shriek. The ambulances, the investigations that followed and Emily’s escape into a world of medication is now blurred into many years of nightmarish memories.

But the small body floating in the canal he still recalls with photographic precision.

Swinging his scythe he starts cutting the high grass.





May 15, 2013

82 responses to “Cutting the Grass – Friday Fictioneers

  1. The picture conveys a wonderful sense of mystery – does it not?
    We obviously both saw bodies somehow hidden
    well done Bjorn – I wouldnt want to cut that grass back

  2. Dear Björn,
    You took me from idyllic to chilling in a mere 100 words. Nice. One typo…you need an s at the end of recall, I think.
    shalom,
    Rochelle

  3. Very chilling. I’m not sure if the small body in the canal is a child they came with or simply one that Emily saw which tipped her over the edge, but either way, it’s a great story.

  4. Is “he” the protagonist or the antagonist? I think this story could be read in at least three different ways, and I find each darker than the next.

  5. Thanks for the heads-up about breaking out the napkins. The last two sentences of your story conjured up striking images for me. Man, you packed a wallop in those two.

  6. Yes, you’re right Björn, a sad one indeed, but beyond sad, an even colder sensation. the one of complete despair and futility. Well written!

  7. Impossible to completely recover from the loss of a child–just hope one can learn to live with it and not go over the edge like Emily. Good portrayal of tragedy, Bjorn.

  8. How awful! And how well written. You set the happy, peaceful scene so well, and then tear it to shreds with their discovery. Revealing that nothing was ever right again makes the grief even more powerful.

  9. Bjorn, that was heart-rending, especially after the idyllic opening. It really gave you the sense of how horror can destroy a rather nice life and how nothing will ever be the same again afterward. Very well written.

  10. Holy smokes. Life changes in the ‘blink of an eye’ –
    With that kind of a tragedy it is amazing anyone still functions at all.
    I can only mimic what others have stated. Well done.

  11. I’m thinking the baby drowned (every mother’s nightmare) and it pushed her over the edge. An extremely well written story, Bjorn. I also enjoyed your comments on several of the other blogs.

  12. Superbly written, if I may say so.
    You told their complete life story here, the loss of a child – just tragic.
    Well done
    Dee

  13. Very good, Björn. Sad depiction of a family destroyed by tragedy. The scythe in the high grass at the end is great … the image conjures up the Grim Reaper, but in a very natural way. It’s only hinted at.

    Lingustically, I’d prefer “new-mown”. “New mowed” or “newly mowed” would both be OK, but “new-mown” is the idiom.

  14. Bows to your talent at flash fiction! Wow, I am still recovering from the story and that final line. Almost Steinbeck!
    In awe and now speechless…

  15. Ooooh, that is chilling, particularly the image of the floating child. I knew it would be something grim because of her escape into medication – you set it up well. 🙂

  16. This is very sad and touching. The juxtaposition of blurred and photographic memory is great in explaining the shock and horror of what he must have experienced, along with Emily’s escape into medication – wonderful story.

  17. Utterly and truly nightmarish, because for me, no matter what has gone on in your story, you’ve conveyed exactly how tragedy can and does strike without warning to end all our happy expectations. I need a stiff drink after reading this! Ann

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