Here is my flash fiction entry for the Flash Mob 2013 Competition, which is an international 'hybrid blog carnival and competition celebrating International Flash Fiction Day'. Links to the entries in the Flash Mob will be published on 20th June 2013, kicking off a blog flash fiction carnival! More information on the Flash Mob can be found at: http://flashmob2013.wordpress.com/
BOWLS
by Taree Belardes
She wandered into the yard sale late one sultry afternoon, enchanted
to find a set of dishes, hand-painted in childish strokes, a rainbow theme
running through. Turning them over, she discovered a date and the names of
young children shining through the glaze. She didn’t need, and couldn’t house,
a whole set of dishes, but she really needed some bowls, and there were six
large ones.
On one, the words, “Mrs. Mcdonald, you are great!” meandered
haphazardly around the rim. “Somebody really loved this teacher, whoever she was,”
she remarked to the man in charge.
“She was my wife,” the man answered, his words tinged in sadness
and past tense.
“Well, looks like a lot of children were lucky to have her,”
was her quiet reply.
She flinched at breaking up this set, but with nowhere to
store the remainder, she inquired about the possibility. Still, she felt the
need to apologize as the man counted out her change.
The bowls proved not only useful, but comforting. Their
weight, just right… their smooth-sheened surface against her hands, pleasing,
and the colorful rainbowed illustrations of grateful children cheered her soul
as she handled them each day.
Each piece, one student’s labor of love, brought memories of
beloved teachers of her own youth: Mr. Nottle, who’d strung the earth’s grid
across the ceiling with twine; Mrs. Fogg, who taught her to clap on the
off-beat, and sing descants; Mr. Lavin, whose ditty, “Skinny Merinky-Dinky-Dink,
I Love You!” had stood the test of time and generations. These tender moments
brought her happiness each and every day.
As time passed, the bowls began to crack, then break, until
one day, she found herself standing at the kitchen sink gripping shards of the
very last one between her fingertips...
...and wishing she’d bought the whole set.
...and wishing she’d bought the whole set.
7 comments:
Thanks for the step back into time, when my Brownie Scouts and daughters made plates like these. I still have three, but they no longer go into the dishwasher...
Good luck with your story, Taree!
we always wish for what we should have done and fail to appreciate those little things before us that we have achieved.
bittersweet...bittersweet
now THE MOB has begun, and I had to read your story again. Sigh. Maybe it is my mood - less rushed now, more contemplative, perhaps even melancholy now...in any event this little tale brought tears to my eyes as I thought of people who have helped me who are now dead and gone and how someday we are all just fall away, like the bowls.
Thanks for all your sweet comments!
Thanks for this story, Topanga. It's simple and true.
So lovely! And yes, she should have bought every single one. :)
You always leave me musing some part of life when I read your stories. As a fellow writer and long time friend let me say Kudos to making a salient point and a feeling of wistfulness shower down upon me. Hearts and Hugs!
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