Thursday, February 21, 2013

Friday Fictioneers/Leaving Home


I love old barns and the stories they could tell. Today’s metal sheds are nothing compared to the barns made with wooden beams and that sport hay lofts. So when the Friday Fictioneer picture went up, I saw lots of tales in that decrepit old barn. However, it was so hard to reduce any story of this picture to 100 words! But I played fair and used only the required 100.
For complete rules to play along or to read more shorties, go http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/



                                                  Leaving Home

I rock in the oak chair, rungs squeaking on each backward tilt. The yellow tabby brushes my ankles as I scan my corner of Breezy Holler. My fingers itch to push fresh peas out of the pod, but I wear my Sunday dress.

“Mom, you ready?” My son already heads to the car with my valise as he waits for me to say goodbye to seventy years of living.

I know the place is no longer our pristine cabin, that the porch rails wobble like my knees. I glance at the dilapidated milking barn, remember Henry there.  

My life fades.

20 comments:

Donna Volkenannt said...

Hi Claudia,
If only they could talk . . . Your story is very evocative and sad.

Silently Heard said...

I had to sell my family house about nine years ago. The ending of your story reminds me having my last look. Touching.

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields said...

Dear Claudia,
A poignant story. You made me feel a lifetime in just a hundred words.
shalom,
Rochelle

Anonymous said...

The imagery is lovely, like going home.

Anonymous said...

Very touching - real emotion in your story.

Linda O'Connell said...

Oh my goodness you conveyed so much with so few words. Love it!
How's your weather? Snow and sleet here.

janet said...

Lovely, Claudia. My grandparents lived on a farm and I can identify with this.

janet

Bo said...

What terrific memories.

billgncs said...

Hi Claudia -- it went from hopeful to sad. You used each word well.

Anonymous said...

I can't imagine walking away from a lifetime of memories. What a difficult thing that must be. And yet I've watched both sets of grandparents do it, plus my in-laws. I'm not sure I could put those emotions to words. You do a lovely job here.

Debra Kristi

P.S. Blogger doesn't like my WP identity.

Dobson said...

So sad when life moves on, forcing the change. We will hold on forever unless life changes our path.

Anonymous said...

Hi Claudia,
Such good writing. Felt like I was right there. Like you, I love old barns, old farmhouses, the country lifestyle. Felt sad for your character as she ends this era in her life. Ron

Sandra Crook said...

Very sad, well done. You made me feel for her.

Anonymous said...

Packed with everything. Not a thing missing. Well done.

Ann Isik (Poetic Mapping) said...

But she will take her memories with her. No need for a valise for those.

train-whistle said...

"squeaking on each backward tilt"--I love sound in a piece of writing. so many of us forget about it.

Anonymous said...

I feel sad for her that she can't gather her peas. How sad to leave such a beautiful place.
Denmother

brudberg said...

Wonderful melancholy, and indeed not pristine any longer.

Shirley said...

Such sadness. Guess nothing lasts forever.

Anonymous said...

Such a sad story