If I shut my eyes I still see their white dresses.
I can still smell the the freshly baked cakes, the coffee and the lilacs in bloom.
I was only twelve and they were older.
When I close my ears I hear them poking fun at me.
My knuckles tightened around the handle of the shovel.
I gritted my teeth and swallowed my pride.
Once, twice …
It’s long ago, and I’m the only one who knows what’s hidden underneath.
I sip my coffee as I start to write:
“Once there was a little boy with three big sisters … “
I didn’t think I would come up with anything this week until I started to think about all the empty chairs and filled them with people now absent. I hope the story is possible to understand, there are a few blanks to fill in. I hope to be able to read as many as possible this week also but it can take a few days before I get through.
Rochelle selects a picture each week and also set the example, we follow and tries to find our own story.
—
March 28, 2018
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Oh, this feels like leading somewhere very unpleasant …
I have a very similar picture – white iron chairs and table in a natural setting – that resonated with me so that I had my brother take on my behalf. I realised much later that it represented my dead family – the empty chairs around the table. Not long after, the brother who took the photo joined the rest of the family. We all kill each other in one way or another – or at least we think we do.
Well, that was brutal. They must have really picked on him quite badly, or something much worse, to warrant that action. Good one Bjorn.
Seems like a measured response…
Yea. I’m with you on filling the chairs
I think the sisters have had it.
I love this poem, Bjorn…….we carry the memories of those careless words that burned for a long time……….
I have seen this degree of repulsion between cousins. It doesn’t look like he is too sorry.
they must be real nasty sisters. still, they didn’t deserve their fate.
Gruesome!
Though we were in for memories but it was murder and recent judging by the shovel. The three sisters must have made his life hell. Enjoyed this one.
Wow! Love that last line. How sinister, and what a lovely, well painted set up. A gem of a story
Very effective. I like that idyllic start, and then the twist into horror.
Seems that empty chairs have brought out the dark side in quite a few Fictioneers. He really didn’t get on with his siblings, did he?
Dear Björn,
I sit here with mouth agape. It boggles my mind that the twelve-year-old got away with murdering his three sisters.(If I’m reading it right). And now he calmly sits at the table and writes. There’s a lot more story here. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Oh no! If he’s so prone to rage over insult, I have to wonder if it’s only his sisters buried out there? Nicely done.
This boy must have been related to C.E. 🙂
😀
Careful, Russell, I can borrow the lad’s shovel!
I don’t like that boy… His comeuppance will come one day. At least I hope it will!
Terrific stuff, Bjorn, dark and direct.
I can give you the number of Assassins Anonymous…
He killed his big sisters?
For poking fun at him?
Who’s minding the store here?
Randy
I don’t think this is going to end well …
Oh, Bjorn, there was much wrong in this family. And what excuse did he use when his sisters didn’t come home?
I get that he outlived them. The question is whether he’s just gardening, or did them in.
Yeeks. Maybe one day someone will link his writings to the missing sisters…
It sounds like confession time for a young man with anger issues.
Big sisters can be irritating! Nice one Bjorn
Sounds like the back yard is a grave yard. I guess the lesson here is be nice to your brothers and sisters.
Very understandable indeed! Nicely done.
12 is a difficult age ….. Great write.
Eeeeeeeek!
Sinister!
Ha ha ha ha, that was wicked…and so much fun.
Something is rotting in there, I guess.
I love the last line. Wow, what a surprising spooky tale. Very nice! =)
To me the idea is one of regret, the end is either a confession or offloading of wishful thinking.
OH, those older sisters shouldn’t have been so unkind. . . .
The sisters were just doing what sisters do, surely? It’s the narrator I’d be worried about. But I too think this is just wishful thinking and he is now sitting somewhere with all his sisters and their children – not a single knuckle tightened around a shovel, just a cake fork. At least I hope so.
yikes – chilling and could feel the grip on the handle… well done
A chilling and gripping take – the birth of a psychopath perhaps.
Oh dear, and those three sisters teased a little too much for their own good, I feel. I would love to read the rest of his story. Well done.
Seems like a psychopathic killer in the making! Chilling…
This is very sinister. For him, revenge is sweet. Great writing.
Delightfully evil story!
Oh dear. The story started so sweetly, then turned unexpectedly dark. It particularly struck a chord with me, because I’m an older sister who sometimes poked fun at my little brother–youngest of five, with four older sisters. Fortunately, we’ve all made amends as adults. 🙂 Excellent turn of the story!
Stories bring out what we wished to do at some stage, but couldn’t … maybe for good.
Ooooo creepy. So well told Bjorn.