© Ayr/Gray
The Unicorn Challenge.
A magical new weekly writing opportunity from him – C. E. Ayr – and me.
The rules are
Maximum of 250 words.
Based on photo prompt.
That’s it.
Click here to read other stories from the prompt: Unicorn Challenge 26/05/23
Homecoming
A whispering runs through the village tonight.
She passes the row of houses on the shore and net curtains twitch.
She knows they’re watching, of course she does, but she walks on, head held high, the boy by her side.
A phone rings in a cottage.
‘Hello.’
‘Did you see who’s back?’
‘Aye, I did that. Catriona Colquhoun. She’s just passed the door. I never thought she’d have the nerve.’
‘Is she alone?’
‘No, the lad’s with her.’
‘How old will he be now?’
‘Must be eleven, maybe twelve…’
Further along the road, in another house, a man and a woman sit by the fire, drinking mugs of tea.
‘It’s just as well her father’s not here to see this day. Died of shame he did, the poor man.’
‘And she never said who the father was?’
‘No, she never did…’
The gossip doesn’t bother Catriona.
She’s long ceased to care what they think of her.
She’s here with David, her son, so that he will know the beauty of the mountains and lochs of his native land.
And she wants to have him formally acknowledged.
She’s had a new gravestone put up for her father.
The wording is spare:
Here lies Angus Colquhoun, husband of the late Sheila Colquhoun, father of Catriona and grandfather of David.
Tomorrow she will take David to see the stone.
But she will never tell him that this is his father’s grave.
That was an unexpected twist, Jenne. And here I was, reading along comparing your gossips to the characters in my tale for this week’s challenge! At least Catriona and David are home. 🙂
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Yes, there is that, Tom! The twist was pretty horrible, but then, so is life sometimes.
I hope to have a happier tale next week! Thanks for commenting.
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🙂
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I was waiting for the reveal, but it still floored me!
Great depiction of small town life and small town minds.
You keep getting better, Jenne.
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It was pretty horrible to write, but these things happen, even in beautiful places, and the story wouldn’t let me go.
You’re always so encouraging in your comments. Thank you.
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Very good, Jenne!
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Thanks for reading and commenting, Chris. Hope you’re doing well.
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Holy Toledo! You outdid yourself with this one, yes you did! Shocking, totally unexpected ending … just the way I like it! Excellent!
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Even if the twist is horrible? Phew! Thanks, Nancy. I did wonder if I’d gone too far. But life is like that.
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We endlessly question ourselves and our work, don’t we? Sometimes we just have to let it fly!
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I had a suspicion as she walked through the town, head high as the curtains and nasty tongues twitched at her passing. She knows where her strength lies & wants to pass THAT on to her boy.
Your final sentence confirms her great mothering.
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That’s exactly the point, Liz, isn’t it? She’s a survivor and a thriver. Thank for commenting.
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Jenne, you twist my old heart every time with your stories of gritty survival. Well done, as always.
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I’ll try to give your heart a rest next week, Doug! Thanks so much for commenting.
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Dude!
No. Way.
(Well, if the measure of writing (in volumes or in verse) is to move the Reader, job well done.)
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The worst, isn’t it, Clark? And yet…
She survived and thrived.
Your comment is exquisitely expressed. Thank you.
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Wow! Beautifully written and well thought out. I love that you can make a real impact in so few words. The ending is staying with me in a very powerful way.
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Thank you, Linds.
Such a dark story for that beautiful picture though. But the story wouldn’t let me go.
This 250 words thing is a real creative discipline. Maybe you’ll try it sometime?
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Maybe I will Jen. Xx
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