Good Day, Love

 

“Did you have a good day?” my husband asks.

A loaded question.

The answer? A load of crap. “Yes.”

Sometimes it is good. On the outside.

I talk about things my son and I did that day. The things that went well, the things that did not.

What I remember of it. I wasn’t really there. I was worrying and letting my mind wander into what-ifs.

 

I am here. Now.

I sit on the floor next to my son’s bed weeping uncontrollably. I try not to wake him. My body aches from stifling sobs.

I am in the moment.

 

 

January 7th Prompt: Being (Write a story that describes a moment of being)
Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

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6 thoughts on “Good Day, Love

  1. Had a physical reaction to this one. On a lesser scale, I have a dog who suffers seizures. She had a rough night last week and by the third one, I lost empathy. I could feel it–I didn’t care, I was so danged tired of this. In the morning she woke me once again, trembling. I didn’t think she’d seize, she gets wobbly after a rough spell. So I let her out, still feeling hard-hearted. I took my time dressing and when I opened the door I found her collapsed on the snow seizing all alone, whimpering. How reading this story makes me feel is how I felt in that moment. Grief and guilt are poor bed-fellows, but the reality of anyone who has to deal with chronic “stuff.” When it’s your child though, the magnification must be out of this world. Not a moment I’d wish on anyone. Well written.

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    • That is horrific. For your poor dog and, also, for you finding her like that. Now , in reading your words, I’m feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut. I hope she is feeling better and that you have recovered.

      So true, Charli, that grief and guilt are poor bed-fellows. Thank you so much.

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  2. Love this, Sarah, although I didn’t actually read it the way that Charli has done, I just saw a mother who was isolated and bored, going out of her mind with having to care for young children and having intermittent “absences” where her mind is elsewhere.

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    • I love this! That I can write something and readers see something else. Sometimes, of course, that can be a bad thing if your point is missed entirely. Other times, like in a flash fiction piece, it’s wonderful how two people can read something so differently. You are both correct, of course. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder or something along those lines in a literary way. Thanks, Anne.

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  3. Very moving Sarah. You can really feel her inner battle repressing her feelings and her eventual release as they cascade out of her in uncontrollable sobbing. I’ve been in that moment and you have written it well.

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    • Thank you, Irene. Wrote this one at the 11th hour, not able to think of anything for the prompt when I thought of this. After a day of never being mindful, being hit with a “moment of being” full force. I think we’ve all been in that moment.

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