Prologue
She pointed the gun and took a step closer, placing the barrel against his right nostril, saying, “Now?”
Part One
The man squared his shoulders.
“I have been waiting for you, and for this, for years. Months. Days. Now.”
She nudged the end of the barrel deeper into his nostril. “I’m here for you.”
Part Two
Their mother, stuck in a wheelchair outside the room, hammered on the locked door, shouting, “Stop it! Stop it right now with your nonsense!” Then leaned forward to hear whether they were stopping. Her bladder, over-excited, began flowing into the catheter that ran from her privates to a plastic bag.
Part Three
“Bang,” she said.
“Bang,” he repeated, waiting for her next move.
“No bang!” yelled the old lady’s voice from the other side of the door as her plastic bag overflowed.
Epilogue
There was the loud, quick noise of bang and the old lady gave up hammering on the door, and also gave up all her hopes for the future. Her children were never going to learn.
The puddle on her nice hallway rug spread.
Tags: brothers and sisters, family and violence, flash fiction, How to write a novel, short-short fiction, Vincent Eaton, wheelchair bound mother
Sorry, Vincent, not my cup of tea…
Interesting. Thanks for sending. Curious what your inspiration was?
@Andrea
Glad you found this interesting.
(@Benedicte — win some, lose some :-)).
Inspiration for this? Don’t know. It just came up. I think I thought of a play structure, this evolved to the traditional beginning/middle/end structure of traditional narrative. Then I thought, Go silly on it. For me, it’s just training the brain to go where it will. This is where it went on this story… Thanks for reading and commenting!
You made this one move so quickly that the headers became funny. I liked that touch.
Not sure who was shot – seemed like it was the old lady, since she’s in the hall, but the phrasing of it being on her rug without actually mentioning her is so obtuse as to make me think someone else got the “bang.” Did I overread?
@John. Overread? Perhaps. Advice relaxation: maybe the bang was just a bang. But I think it happened on the other side of the door, & thanks for the close reading.