From Jenne Gray and C.E. Ayr’s photo prompt. The Unicorn Challenge (06/23/23). No more than 250 words in length.
(And no, this is not murder, but death by cancer)
The last rock is placed. She stands back to evaluate her work. One hundred stones, enough to trace an outline. It’ll do. Her father’s body had become wasted, crumpled like a…a croissant! A little repose, in straightening out this depiction of his form. A little humor to remind her to breathe.
Don’t think about his twisted, stiff body, leg hanging over the side of his hospital bed, arms raised, hands clenched like eagle claws. Remember tucking that leg under the blanket, gently straightening the fingers, crossing the arms over his chest, and pulling the blanket over his chin. Smoothing the blanket. Kissing the cold forehead.
It was her last memory of him, beyond…
The cardboard container of ashes tossed out in the channel, as a son, likely overcome with grief, slips and drops it. Instead of sailing away in the Frisbee-shaped container (sailboat gaily imprinted on the top), Dad is shredded in the motorboat’s rotor. The family, quick wits at the ready, make all ok. Guess it’s better than yelling at the young man, but let’s not talk about feelings.
Pile the driftwood as the sun sets, set it alight. Hip flask full with the smoothest Aquavit, she toasts his departure over the line. Thankful for slow Superior lake water brushing over red sands, night cool enough to keep bugs away. And the family.
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2023)
Valley of the Trolls 
Touching narration. I love the last stanza.
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Thank you kindly, Kajal.
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Wow, Liz, this one is so powerful and real! Grief is such a hard thing…and yet you captured it perfectly.
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Thank you, Ann. Another reason we write…reconfiguring for happier times.
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Exactly!
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This has moved me beyond words, Liz.
A heartfelt and heartbreaking piece.
Truly lovely and so very sad.
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Thank you. It’s been near a decade. Better polish up the hip flask and hit the road.
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This is a powerful piece, Liz.
I’ve read it several times and at each reading, another nuance makes itself felt.
The bare bones of death and loss and how we live that in a way that is true to the deceased person’s life.
The last phrase speaks volumes.
Exquisite writing.
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Thank you kindly, Jenne!
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Wow, Liz, this is so raw and powerful that it reeks of truth.
If so, my commiserations.
Great piece of writing.
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Thank you, CE. When trauma intrudes, wishes and imagination offer comfort & calm.
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Such a moving story Liz.
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Thank you for your kind comment, Sadje! ❤
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You’re welcome
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Superb, Liz. Even grief elicits beauty. ‘Pile the driftwood as the sun sets, set it alight. Hip flask full with the smoothest Aquavit, she toasts his departure over the line.’
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Thanks, Doug.
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