I returned a Monday in September; ten days before the autumn equinox. Dusk had started to stretch its hands through our silent forest.
A few exhausted leaves rolled leisurely across the porch.
The house was resting; waiting; it was staring back at me, windows blank and vacant.
I was numb, lacking answers as my father wasn’t drunk and as my mother’s bruises was uncovered.
My rage subsiding in my war with windmills.
I opened the door to the hurried footsteps from scavenging rodents; shivering, caressed by spiderwebs.
The stagnant air still reeked from my mother’s rancid pork.
I remembered finding my mother dead; my father drunk, asleep, on the floor his axe I later used — on him
I remembered claiming self-defense; I remembered prison-food.
These memories were left here with the trees: the fears I left were now exhumed.
I had come to stay.
Time for prosery at dVerse. 144 word of prose including the phrase “These memories were left here with the trees” from “How to Write a Poem in a Time of War.” by Jo Harjo. Merril hosts.
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September 16, 2019
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Nailed that prosery.
Prosery is my favorite thing … only every fourth week.
Great at prosery and the ghoulish – really enjoyed this one!
Prosery is so much fun.
I love the shivers this gave me. Fantastic write.
Thank you… I wanted to give a story away gradually…
I think you got that just right.
Ooooh. Dark and foreboding- love it Bjorn!
foreboding or maybe a closure for his past sins.
Perfect for this season, Björn, and perfectly done.
Powerful, poignant writing Bjorn. I love this. Well done!
A chilling tale!
Oh, that’s very dark. Scandi-noir, here. Left me wondering how reliable this narrator actually is.
Great subversion of the title, too. Is this home, still?
I love this for the buildup of incidents in the story. Excellent!
Strong tale, told boldly. It incorporates the chosen line perfectly. Your dive into darkness is indeed chilling.
Very Scandi-Noir, Björn….
Very dark and chilling
A haunting tale of vengeance. Love this!
Like the punch of the last line
As 10cc sang, “The things we do for love.” Hoping he’s not haunted in the night by one or both of them. My story was similar, but with the prompt line it isn’t surprising that it would be.
a powerful tale of a very realistic situation … well penned!
Well, that went to a very dark place. So much said in so few words.
Memories lost and found…hopefully the circle finds closure. (K)
Okay….you have very successfully written a very disturbing piece of prose. Wow!
As I read your piece, I had the song by Ozzie Osborne in my had, ‘Mama I’m coming home’. This is so powerful, Björn, and very Scandi-noir – up there with my favourites. I like the dusk starting ‘to stretch its hands through our silent forest’, those few exhausted leaves rolling across the porch, and the ‘war with windmills’.
And I’m wondering if he returned in the flesh or as a spirit….
Thriller for sure! Sad!
Great story! What better way to find answers than to face the memories that scare us most.
Excellent writing Björn ! Good use of the proffered line. I enjoyed reading this, dark though as it was..
Very dark. You set it up well.
So well compressed, and the tight story evoking so much more.
Breath-stealing! Had me on the edge of my seat to the last line!