The Truth She Can Not See
Flash Fiction | 2 Minute Read
This week’s story is out of my Writing Prompt Party notebook. This is a story I wrote last week with the Happy Campers Club from Stop Writing Alone community during of our weekly Writing Prompt Party. We used a new prompt tool that I created based on an old writing prompt tool I love, The Writer’s Toolbox. If you are interested in learning about the tool, keep scrolling after you read the story!
This is a 2 minute read.
The Truth She Can Not See
“Your body lied to you. That’s the truth,” the doctor snapped the chart shut and walked out the door leaving me in the hospital room to pick up all the pieces of my mother he left behind.
“That guy,” I said, “is an asshole, Mom.” She wasn’t crying. She was in some sort of shock.
“It has to mean something,” she whispered, “it can’t just be lies. I feel younger, stronger than I have in years.”
“We’ll get a second opinion, Mom. What do you think of that?” I said, pulling her cardigan over her shoulders, feeling the bones stick out in places I used to use as a pillow. She said she felt younger, but I felt her oldness under every touch. A second opinion with a gentler touch might help convince my mother that life was catching up to her, our genetic curse was not a thing to be outrun.
“I’ll be fine, April Lynn,” Mom shook her head as she delicately slid off the examination table into my waiting arms. I thought getting her home to Dad would help convince her to seek more help. I was wrong.
“They’re the experts, Marie!” Dad shouted.
“No, Charlie, you don’t understand,” she said, pouring him another glass of red wine out of the crystal decanter I gave them on their 35th anniversary. “It wasn’t so much that I didn’t believe the science. It was just that my experience showed me something completely different.”
“You’re just talking nuts, Mar,” Dad slammed his fist on the table, not in anger, but in frustration. “I won’t lose you to your own ignorance!”
Mom got to her feet, red-faced, matching Dad’s frustration with every part of her being. “You won’t lose me. That time Precious called me a porcupine the tally was set to ten and the magician found me under the table!”
Dad’s frustration melted away completely as he softly held her hand and said, “I remember that like it was yesterday, Marie sweetie. When you’re right, you’re right. What can I say? Just take a seat and finish your dinner.”
“Dad…” I pleaded.
“I know,” he said, looking down at his plate. It was perfectly cooked lamb just the way he liked it. The way he said only mom could make it. “I’ll sign the power of attorney in the morning. There’s no more waiting.”
“Daddy, I’m sorry,” I said, through quiet tears.
“Baby Girl, my heart breaks for you.”
Leave a Comment and Don’t Hoard this Story!
This story was inspird by a three part prompt, step one was everyone in the group was given the same first sentence: Your body lied to you. That’s the truth.
Perhaps it would be difficult to answer now, but what do those words make you think of? In our group there was my story, a story about a guy at a rodeo, another story about a stranded hiker, and a fourth story about a Ouija board! Fiction is fabulous, we truly can go anywhere and do anything on the page!
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The Inspiration
This story was inspired by a brand new Writing Prompt Tool that I created for my Stop Writing Alone writing community (and anyone else who wants to use it). I created a pdf that anyone can print out and use in this post: [Printable] Zips for Sticks Writing Prompt Tool. Feel free to print it out or share it with a writer you love. I also did a video explaining the process of using the tool here:
For the story The Truth She Can Not See I was given the following prompts:
first sentence: Your body lied to you. That’s the truth.
non sequitur: It wasn’t so much that I didn’t believe the science. It was just that my experience showed me something completely different.
last straw: that time Precious called me a porcupine
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