Saturday, May 25, 2013

Flash Fiction Friday







(***I apologize for the delay in my Flash Fiction Friday post.  I have been having some issues with my server and have only been able to get online sporadically while at work.  Here is a story just in time for Memorial Day***)



Going Home
By Donna L Martin


Mud mixed with blood clung to Rory's pants and what was left of his boots as he struggled to make his way up the hill. The day had been long and the cries of the wounded were fading away with the sunlight.  Some might call him a coward for not dying on the battlefield.  Rory wasn't sure himself why he wasn't lying in the trenches with his comrades. All he knew was he was done with all the fighting and he was going home.

Going home.

Three years of fighting and Rory almost forgot what home felt like.  He was just a kid back then and ran away to enlist before his Pa could say no.  He told them he was eighteen so they put a drum in his hands and called him a soldier. Dreams of glory were soon pushed aside by the  stark reality of fighting brother against brother. Too much bloodshed over a cause long forgotten when a body just followed orders and tried to stay alive.

Going home.

Rory had almost made it to the top of the hill when he realized he might not recognize his little sister.  She was barely thirteen when he joined the fighting and she was all grown up now.  If not for this blasted war, she would be making plans for her coming out ball.  There would be a flurry of excitement as Adeline wonders which suitor will ask for her first dance.  But there would be no dance now.  Hell, Rory didn't even know if his family had survived the war so far. Would Adeline even recognize the gaunt face clothed in moth eaten rags as her beloved brother returning home? Would Pa welcome him back, knowing he fought for the other side?

Going home.

But today was the breaking point.  Until today Rory managed to believe what he was doing was right.  Until today he had honor and pride on his side as he fought to right a wrong.  Until today he could say he had never held a gun in anger nor taken another's life.  But the horror of watching someone else's brother die by his hands was too much and the only thing he could think to do is lay down his weapon and go home...


***Okay, it's your turn!  What happens next?  Does Rory make it home?  Does Adeline recognize her big brother?  Does Pa forgive his only son for leaving?  Put your creative cap on and add a sentence or add a paragraph.  Continue my story or start one of your own.  Join the fun and see where this picture prompt takes us!***

8 comments:

  1. Hi Jerry! Thank you for your kind words...I try...;~)

    Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  2. Going home.

    Was it still the red roofed, white washed walls he remembered. The red window sills with coloured potted plants Ma loved and tendered. The old car in the drive, Pa's pride and joy. The crisp white sheets on the bed, the smell of Ma's home cooking, all distant memories. But would they still be there? He hoped they would, it had been a long three years, it will not be the same, yet right now he hoped, prayed, wanted to believe it would. As his footsteps became slower, heavier, he remembered vaguely the argument he had had with Pa over him learning to drive his old beat-up, his sister lashing out when he pulled her pig tails in church and she got caught because of it, his Ma scolding him for his untidy room. Still, it's home, yes it's home....


    oh gosh, I am out of practice...lol. So pleased you are keeping this series going. Beautiful writing Donna.

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    Replies
    1. Hi Diane! I like how you took my Civil War tale and modernized it. Thank you for your kind words...I hope others are enjoying this series as well...;~)

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  3. Go Home.
    That's what Rory had in mind. But he had shot someone. A fellow just like him. With sisters and a mother. Maybe a wife and child. The horror couldn't leave him. He felt traumatized. Every time he closed his eyes he saw him, begging not to shot.
    But...

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    Replies
    1. Hi Clarike! I felt that for Rory as well. He would be considered a deserter and no one would stop to think the trauma he had been through. He was a mere boy when he joined and was still pretty much a child in some ways but the war now made him feel as old as the hills...

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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  4. Wow. That is enough of a story. Civil War?

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    1. Yes, Erik, this story takes place during the Civil War. It is a war I am fascinated with for many reasons and thought I could do a decent try at a flash fiction piece on it...how did I do in your opinion? ;~)

      Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!

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