Three Line Tales — A Rhetorical Question

Tears were streaming down her cheeks when she looked at me and asked, “are you happy now?”

Her emphasis was on the word “now,” not on the word “happy.”

I could tell by the tears in her eyes and the inflection in her voice that hers was a rhetorical question for which she wasn’t expecting an answer.

Written for Sonya’s Three Line Tales prompt. Photo credit: Nathan Dumlao via Unsplash.

Three Line Tales — Falling Behind

12B6B358-D1FA-4E31-89F8-A0CADD8EDAE7The two women, lifelong best friends, were standing behind the large clock on the mezzanine level of the railway station when Beverly saw tears welling up in her BFF’s eyes.

“Annie, sweetie,” Beverly said, reaching out and grabbing her friend’s hand. “What is the matter, honey?”

Annie sighed. “Standing here, Beverly, I just feel like life is passing us by and we are falling so far behind the times.”

Written for Sonya’s Three Line Tales prompt. Photo credit: Stijn te Strake via Unsplash

#100WW — The Path of Self-Discovery

3188BFD3-94D4-4EF3-9526-596BADD0FA3FHenry stood on the road watching his father drive away in the old Chevy pickup truck. With tears in his eyes, Henry waved, not knowing whether his father would see his gesture in the truck’s rearview mirror.

They didn’t part ways on good terms. Clarence expected Henry to takeover the family’s feed and grain business. But Henry had different plans. He came back home from state college with the need to discover himself, to set his own path.

What Henry couldn’t see after his father dropped him off at the bus stop were the tears streaming down his father’s cheeks.

(100 words)

Written for this week’s 100 Word Wednesday prompt from Bikurgurl.

Bridge Over Troubled Water


Today’s one-word prompt, “crescendo,” immediately reminded me of a memory etched deep inside my mind. What memory is that, you ask? Great question. Let me tell you about it.

Back in the day, I had a certain routine I followed whenever I got a new album. I would bring it home from the record store, carefully remove the 33-1/3 LP platter out of its album cover, touching it by the edges only, gently place the vinyl record on the turntable, and lower the needle on the first track of the album.

Then I’d don my large headphones, plug the curly tether into the amplifier, and stretch the long, curly cord enough to enable me to lie down on my bed and be absorbed into the music.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that between the time I got back to my place from the record store and started my little routine, I would toke-up enough to get a buzz on. Hey, it was the late 60s and early 70s.

The first cut on the “Bridge Over Troubled Water” album is the title song. Now I’m not really an emotional guy. I’m generally very stoic, somewhat detached, and mostly unflappable. But as I was lying in bed, listening to the lyrics of that song and the way the music built up to an amazing crescendo, something unusual, for me, anyway, happened. Instead of maintaining my normally cool as a cucumber demeanor, my eyes were starting to tear up and then overflow until the tears streamed down my cheeks.

When the song ended, I was crying like a little girl. I threw off the headphones, went back to the album on my turntable, and placed the stylus back at the beginning of the first track. This time I sat cross-legged in front of my stereo system, and through the two huge speakers, listened to the song once again. And, once again, by the time it was over, tears were streaming down my face.

Never before had a song had such a strong emotional impact upon me. I was totally blown away. Of course, I was more than a little stoned at the time, and that may have intensified my response to the song. I eventually made it through the entire album, which, in my humble opinion, is one of the best albums ever.

Despite the passage of close to five decades since that first time, my eyes always mist up whenever I listen to that song. Listen carefully to this song. I dare you to tell me it doesn’t move you to tears.

Built for Two


David’s eyes teared up when he saw the father and son riding past him on the tandem bicycle. It wasn’t that long ago that he and his own father were enjoying taking such rides together.

But then his father expectantly suffered a massive heart attack that took his life. David was devastated by the loss. His father and mother used to ride a tandem bike before David was old enough. Once David was big enough, his father would help him onto the back of the bike and the two of them would spend hours exploring the bicycle trails in various city parks.

Having the bike in their garage, though, was just too much for his mother to bear, so she sold it without telling David.

Seeing the father and son that day reminded David that the tandem bike, now gone forever, was his father’s prized possession.

David’s tears streamed down his cheeks.

(152 words)

Written for Priceless Joy’s August 8th FFfAW challenge.

The Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge is to write a flash fiction story of up to 150 words (± 25), based on the weekly photo prompt. Photo credit: Dorothy.