Friday, August 9, 2013

Vicissitudes

photo from Bunderarchiv, bild 102-349/CC-BY-SA
When my father was called away to war, Mum did her best to keep the home fires burning. But it’s pictures just such as this that show me the pain, the loneliness and the overwhelming physical exhaustion so thinly concealed behind her smile.

I, certainly, can’t place blame on Da for never returning. The beaches of Normandy drank the blood of many men, no few of them fathers I’d suppose. And if Mother’s mind...unhinged more than a bit after that, it was, I concede, something to be expected.

Life, I learned from quite an early age, is seldom fair.


This story was written for the weekly !Flash Friday flash fiction challenge photo prompt and was required to be exactly 99 words. 

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