Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge is asking us to
write a Six Sentence Story using the word “pass”.
This is my six sentence story.
The house is quiet tonight ….eerily quiet …. for all the lights are off and only the glow of candles shines dimly through the curtained windows, performing a ballet of shadows on the walls and ceiling; every so often a door softly opens, barely perceptible murmurings are audible, then the door gently closes as intermittent muted sobbing creeps up from the parlor.
I sit on my bed huddled under a blanket, a tiny flashlight flickering a pale yellow beam on my diary as I jot down my memories of the day; I must be quiet because my mother will be very upset with me if she discovers I’m still awake at this late hour.
My window is open just enough to let in some fresh air and the distinct smell of cigarette smoke wafts up into my room; I peek out to see my mother’s uncles sitting on the back steps silently smoking their unfiltered Lucky Strike cigarettes, their black armbands starkly visible against their plain starched white shirts.
I tip-toe across the length of my bedroom, praying the old wooden floorboards beneath the well-worn rug will not creak and ever so slowly I turn the glass doorknob; the hallway is dark but I can detect a muted light downstairs and I scurry nearer to the staircase railing for a better look as I sit there hugging my knees asking myself if I should creep downstairs and take a peek.
A few hours earlier the ambience of the house was much different, still subdued but active as delivery men came and went and acquaintances passed through the hallway into the parlor to pay their respects while my mother and the other women labored in the kitchen like mute worker bees, preparing trays of food for the constant flow of visitors, and my father, along with my uncles, positioned the many floral arrangements throughout the parlor; we children sat quietly on the two enormous matching sofas along the side walls, eyes downcast, confused and uncharacteristically subdued, occasionally glancing toward the walnut casket resting atop a platform in the center of the room and quickly look away.
Around 6:00 we were quietly whisked away into the dining room where we silently ate our supper, then returned to the parlor to continue our vigil; it had been a long and sorrowful day, the longest day in our young lives, for the family matriarch, my great-grandmother had died.
This is Enrico Caruso singing “Mamma mia, che vo’sapé” (“My mother, what did you know?”)
NAR©2024
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What a beautiful piece you wrote from that piece. Truly stunning work. Such lovely description and emotion. Thank you for sharing this with us. Many blessings. ❤️🙏❤️
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I think these moments are hardest on those who understand the least.
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Yes, most insightful.
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So very sweet and sad with many details that brought this story to life. 💞
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Thanks much, Michele.
I find in stories such as these, little details mean a lot.
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You are welcome, Nancy. They make the story! Fun to put yourself in the scene while writing and imagine the details.
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Beautiful tale of your great-grandmother’s passing.
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Thanks so much, Frank.
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What a lovely story. Well done, Nancy!
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Thanks very much, Chris.
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“…<em>performing a ballet of shadows on the walls and ceiling</em>”
Damn!*
Well drawn scene (‘specially details like the glass door knob and Lucky Strikes)
*compliment on a most evocative of descriptions
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Thanks, Clark.
Greatly appreciate your comments.
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A touching tale indeed. You took us right into her mind.
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Thanks so much, Keith. I’m very glad to know you could hear my voice.
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Very nicely done. Wonderful to add Caruso as well!
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Thanks, Dale. My father never would have forgiven me!
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Haha! I hear you.
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Very poignant story Nancy
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Thank you, Glyn. It was a most memorable time for me.
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Oh, this was beautifully written N., with perfect little details. Years later, I can see the adult remembering the glass door knob and the smoke from the uncles’ cigarettes floating into the room.
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Thank you, my friend! I’m delighted that you picked up on those little details. That means a lot to me.
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Those are the types of little insignificant details that stick to these memories.
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Wonderful story, Nancy.💕
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Thank you, Grace.
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My pleasure 💕
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Lovely. Really lovely.
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It was such a long time ago but I remember it all so well. Thanks, Misky.
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A sad story Nance! xoxo
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Sad time from very long ago. Thanks, CA.
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You’ve written this story with so much sensitivity Nancy.
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Enormous times in our lives we will never forget, no matter how much time has gone by.
Thank you so much, Sadje. A most gracious comment.
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You’re most welcome 🙏🏼
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