Ever Since | Short Story Sunday

Ever Since

I was living with a woman who suddenly began to stink. My mother sat in her chair all day, facing the back garden. She never spoke anymore, she never watched television, she never painted. She had always painted, even as she grew sick, the cancer taking over her body, even when she had to paint from a wheelchair. She never stopped. Until this week. She had just stopped one day. No more painting, no more soap operas, no more long conversations while I brushed her hair out. Her hair had grown though, it had grown quite a bit. Everyone says cancer patients’ hair falls out, but not my mother’s. It stayed shiny and soft, and it finally grew this last week. So did her fingernails. She never comments on my paintings anymore, though I show her every night. She’s begun to smell, even though I bathed her.

The light’s gone out from her eyes, ever since my mother died.

Short Story Sunday

That’s a wrap!  Today I’m presenting you with a piece of flash fiction I wrote for my creative writing class a few years ago.  It’s one of my favorite creepy pieces, so I figured shortly before Halloween is the right time to share it.  I was inspired to create a “Short Story Sunday” feature on my blog by the inimitable Kate Mitchell of Kate The Almost Great, whose writing you can find here.  I hope she doesn’t mind too much.  If you have a short story in you, post it on your blog and share the link below; I’d love to read it!