I hope everyone’s weekend was wonderful. I decided to switch it up and post a short story. Please let me know what you think. I don’t have much practice with short stories, my mind tends to go the long form route. This particular short story started from a prompt on grief and loss as well as an exercise in subtext.
I think everyone should dip their toes in the realm of the short form and write a short story. I’ve noticed that it’s really strengthened my subtext and my ability to edit scenes.
Try not to hold it against me that this short story is from a few years ago, an old thing that I found, edited and decided to post. If you’re reading my 1Million Challenge, you’ll notice that I’ve written in the short story form a little since I wrote “Welcome To Carmax” back in 2012 or something like that. Below is a short excerpt of the story that is also a link.
He swore on his grandfather’s ring around his thumb that the next time Gwen said Honey and stroked the back of his neck, he was closing his eyes and running out of the house, even if she was right.
He looked at the ring and smiled a little, running his thumb and first finger over the Celtic designs, relishing the smooth finish of the simple band and turning it on his thumb. He remembered when his mother had given it to him as a going-away present before he headed off to college. He remembered that she wore it all the time and promised it to him when she would give him back to God as something to ground him to his family. He’d kept it in his trunk for most of college, pulling it out to gaze at it when his Orgo exam had scared him, or the night before he took his MCAT. It had always given him a sense of peace. Now, he never took it off unless he was cleaning it or reading the words on the inside. It was really the only Gaelic he read consistently unless he went to go visit the family in Ireland.
Thanks for reading!