Hello again to you all, my friends, followers and countrywoman/menfolk – gather round the campfire and let me tell you a tale.
While I am waiting to see where a specific story places in this week’s competition, I’ve come up with my own story, based on a Flash Fiction prompt that I fished out of a board game that I own.
The prompt was “Hair of The Dog”, as in the drinking metaphor – of course I had to write about this, who wouldn’t given the opportunity?
So without further ado, I give you today’s story!
*Trumpet fanfare* *Standing ovation* *10, 000 thundering elephants* *Somebody turn the damn National Geographic Channel off!*
Feel free to comment below.
The Healing Process (by David Ellis)
Why is everything so damn foggy? Where are my glasses? Can’t remember what I was reading last night.
Damn cockroaches. I’d flatten them but this place is dirty enough as it is.
My Daddy was a Doctor. Or a fireman. Maybe a newscaster. I don’t know.
The first guess was probably right.
There’s a phrase that keeps on recurring in my mind, might be French or Greek or something – “Similia similibus curantur” – Daddy used to use fancy words a lot, said it meant something about “Like curing like.”
I’ll drink to that.
Poison the well a little more.
Can’t remember when I last ate – might have been a hamburger, I can see the wrapper on the floor.
Can still smell the onions. Are they green? Must be at least a couple of days old. What’s wrong with me? How’d it get so bad my only friend in the world is a bottle of moonshine? But nothing shines in this dump unless it’s swimming in grease.
Another object swims into focus. There are words. A newspaper. Open on the obituaries section.
Oh Lordy, I’ve missed Daddy’s funeral! I’m a terrible son, I know I need to do better, I…..wait, what day is it today? Is it a Tuesday?
I missed his funeral over three years ago.
Guess I have been a little preoccupied lately, what with…..what was it now?
Oh yeah, Lucy Lou dying too.
I loved her. Best darn mutt there ever was.
Bottle’s almost empty now, might as well just be guzzling on tears. Seems everything I hold dear has run its course, expired, left me.
But my sister is coming over today I think – or it may be next week.
Don’t know. Don’t really care.
She’s bringing a suit, has told me to clean my act up.
“Do it for your niece!” She shrieked.
I can barely tie my own shoelaces nowadays.
Maybe I’ll just sleep here for a while.
If they turn up I’ll pretend I’m out.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
4 thoughts on “Flash Fiction / Short Story – “The Healing Process””
Thanks for letting me camp out in your blog for a little while today. I had a great time and tried to leave my campsite as good as when I arrived. I’ll be back!
You’re welcome Russ, pop back any time.
Your photography is simply stunning – glad I signed up to your blog and I like your humorous writing with the photos too, makes it stand out very much, superbly entertaining.
Maybe we’ll get ourselves some bacon, beans, have a good ole campfire singalong and tell some stories by the fire!
This piece really describes loss well. I like the first half the best, particularly how everything is dirty and blurry. It’s very accurate to how any kind of major loss feels. At times like those, everything seems very vague and nothing seems positive. And it continues and continues that way, a great contrast of steadiness compared to how your character can’t keep track of time, whether in the future or the past. Very well done.
Such a nice, detailed comment! Thank you for taking the time to stop by my blog and go into this much depth on my story – very kind of you Christie and very much appreciated.