Promise Kept
Here’s some flash fiction for you this weekend. I entered this in the Fire&Ice flash fiction contest on Friday. Follow that link if you want to check out the other entries. This is mine, inspired by the picture prompt on the contest page:
Promise Kept
I’ll never forget that moment. Mother leaning into me; my cheek wet with her tears; her breath warm upon my neck as she prayed. Her words never left me.
“May the Lord bring you peace one day. Peace and justice. Somehow.”
I didn’t say anything. She had spoken my words. I held her close, my tears mixed with hers.
Today, I stand looking down at the box lying six feet below me. I am one of only a few dressed in black to pay respects. His sister throws dirt. His mother drops a tulip. I watch them pass by without a sound.
I step forward. From my purse I pull out the dress I wore that day. Torn. Stained. I held it all this time like a promise. Now I drop it onto the box.
It was his heart that killed him. But I believe it was a promise kept.
OK, so … trying to figure out what happened here … the man … raped her, I am guessing? She saved the dress? Then he had a heart attack, which was God keeping His promise for justice?
This is the fun of flash fiction. With a limited word count, stories have to be suggested. This means the reader fills in the blanks. And you may have it… except… why didn’t the narrator call the police? And why was the narrator at his funeral with his family? 🤔
Obviously, the incident happened in a context where such crimes were being used as weapons of war and the authorities were either not available or not to be trusted. A few years later, the period of war is over, and people are living together again in their villages, albeit uneasily. Nobody wants to get back into a cycle of vengeance at this time. The entire village turns out for the funeral.
You could read it that way. And it sounds like you’ve got the beginnings of your own short story (or novel!) there. Run with it, Jennifer! Another way of reading it might be that the narrator was in an abusive and controlling relationship–even marriage..? Again, this is the fun of flash fiction. What you see going on between the lines can depend on where your imagination is at that moment. 🙂
I am tickled by your response. That scenario was the first thing I thought of, having read some hair-raising journalistic pieces about the use of rape in warfare. Now that you mention it, domestic abuse would also fit the facts of your flash fiction nicely.
I don’t think I’ll be turning this into a novel, not wanting to spend several years immersed in that particular horror. Also being busy working on indie publishing my own series, book 2 of which deals with domestic abuse as a major subplot.
As a reader, I confess I prefer “Ah ha! So that’s what’s happening!” to “What the heck is going on here and am I the only one who doesn’t know?”
I understand. Flash fiction isn’t for everyone. But that word limitation is a great discipline. It certainly sharpens your editing chops! I do, however, appreciate the satisfaction of a mystery unfolding over several chapters.