“We’re late!” Jeremy snatched his coat from the closet. “Mum!”

“I know! Stop…stop yelling. We’ll be right there.”

“Mum, seriously! Coach will bench me!”

The clicking of cleats on tile echoed down the hallway. Jeremy’s face tightened with each step. He swung into the kitchen, “If I have to sit this game out I’ll…”

His mother sat on the floor stroking his little brother’s hair as he reached out again and again, touching the edge of the countertop. She didn’t look up. “We’ll be right there.”

“No, it’s good.” Jeremy crouched down. “We’ll go when you’re ready, okay buddy?”



February 11 Prompt: Compassion (Write a story that demonstrates compassion)
Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

11 thoughts on “Invisible

  1. So, having just commented briefly on my day to you before actually reading your post, now I’m crying. The world would be so perfect if no one had to endure such pain, the pain of watching helplessly. Yet, why is it that we are perfected through this pain? Self-centerness flees when compassion enters.

    Yet, the title intrigues me. Who is invisible? Mom or one of the boys? It could be said that each has to deal with invisibility — mom unable to meet the immediate needs of both boys, the boy with the ballgame might feel invisible, but his compassion overcomes any resentment. And the other son? Struggling to connect? Maybe dad who isn’t able to be at home? Perhaps invisibility let us see raw hearts. Maybe we should look for that more in people, and we’d feel less judgmental. Powerful flash!


    • Yes! This —> “Self-centeredness flees when compassion enters.” Perfect.

      I am so happy you got this. I was thinking I might have been too subtle. Yes, yes, and yes. They are all, in their own ways, invisible for the exact reasons you stated. Oh, happy day! The mom is unable to help either of them (at least at this time), Jeremy feels what most siblings of a special needs child feels and is resentful at times but compassionate on the whole, and the little boy has an “invisible” disability which others often don’t see or acknowledge or even believe. What is that feeling when someone really gets your writing? 🙂 Thank you.


  2. Pingback: Stories of Compassion « Carrot Ranch Communications

  3. I agree, you really feel for all the characters here. Regarding Jeremy, I was so proud of him, but I only hope that he genuinely meant it and didn’t feel coerced.


    • Thanks, Anne. The character I wrote was being genuine and acts like this often with his brother. (Because we know things about our characters. 😉 It’s amazing. After 99 words, I could write a book about this family. That often happens with these flash challenges.) On the flip side, had he been coerced, that would also make an interesting story with that type of family dynamic.


  4. No you weren’t too subtle at all. That was indeed a powerful flash. To see compassion in a child makes your heart swell and the tears come. For a child who is naturally self-centred as he is a child to overcome this in a self-less act of compassion is beautiful to see. Superb writing Sarah


    • Thank you, Irene. It is amazing how people (especially children) switch from irritation to compassion when something that seems so important is overshadowed by a need. I truly appreciate your comment .


  5. What a story! I could see it all! I felt the older boy was invisible. Mom on overload, doing her best, loving both, but demands keep her late. She is always late, to everything. She needs a platter, a plate is too small. It all turns out OK, they love one another.


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