With a Rebel Yell

 

He wasn’t supposed to drink alcohol.

My father was a hard-working man, not afraid to get his hands dirty. Not ashamed to shovel shit for the rich folk when they wouldn’t honor his degree from our country.

But he was stubborn.

I heard them argue, my parents. About his work. His genius gone to waste. His drinking.

I turned away – blasting Billy Idol from my room, tuning them out.

When my mother asked where father hid his bourbon, I stayed silent, picturing the bottle next to my cigarettes in the overgrown garden.

He died young.

I smashed my stereo.

 

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

January 6, 2016 prompt: Rebellion In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about rebellion.  

 

Sarah Brentyn Reef 99 Words - sig

It’s been 2 months since I posted any fiction. Writer’s identity crisis, self-doubt, and all that crap. Well, now I’m back. With a Rebel Yell…

“Aaaaahhhh!”

 

Rebel Yell Bourbon

Rebel Yell by Billy Idol

 

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7 thoughts on “With a Rebel Yell

  1. Welcome back, Sarah. And what a blast accompanies your return. This is a fabulous flash fiction. You do it so well. A whole story in just a few words. That genius gone to waste is a sad thing. I’ve seen it too. My dad suffered from it, not from not having his qualifications unrecognised, but from not having the opportunity to acquire an education (familiar topic?). My dad had to leave school at age twelve and go to work to help support his family. At age 18 he went to war and came back with untold damage and no support, recognition or thanks. His creativity and intelligence never got the opportunity to blossom. It is a sad thing. It ate away at his spirit. He wasn’t an alcoholic and he didn’t die young. But inside he did.

    Liked by 1 person

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