The little boy was circling the table with a model airplane held aloft.
“Aaron come here..” She called out to the boy.
“Ma, I’m Aaron. That’s my son Mike. He’s your grandson.” The man holding her hand continued talking but she knew he wasn’t her son. Her son was 9years old and playing infront of her. She couldn’t understand why they were confusing her.
“Remember Laura? She’s my wife. You came for the wedding with Papa…”
She looked through the window at the mountains covered in mist. It was like her life. All she could see were the faint outlines.
this story was written based on the photo prompt at the top. For more stories on this prompt here’s where you need to go: http://madison-woods.com/index-of-stories/082412-2/
How sad! Alzheimer’s? Well done and you tied the “misty/mist” in perfectly.
Losing my memory is probably the only thing about growing old that scares me..
I know what you mean!! It’s bad enough when I forget things now.
A nice play on the ‘misty’ of the subject photo. Well done.
Thank you Sandra
Achingly sad. This story makes me hurt to my core.
Enjoyed reading your story..
I didn’t mean to upset you with mine. 😦
Oh, what a sad metaphor. Very well written. Mine is here: http://readinpleasure.wordpress.com/2012/08/23/fridayfictioneers-light-on-the-hill/
Thank you. 🙂
A touching story and clever use of the prompt.
Thanks for a great read.
Thank you for reading 🙂
I lived that same conversation with my grandmother, nevering knowing from one visit to another if she’d know me. Very well done, evoking the feelings of loss and grief that are a part of that disease.
mine is here: http://erinleary.wordpress.com/2012/08/23/flash-friday-fiction-13/
Thank you. I wouldn’t wish a loss of memory on my worst enemies..
That photo was very evocative of passing time and fading memories. I think we were both thinking along the same lines this week!
You captured the voice of the character very well.
beautiful, yet that story chills me to the heart …. bw
I understand cos the thought of going through that chills me too..
What is her name? She must have a name. Do you remember her name?
Your story cries to me, and I need a name for her lost memory.
Her name is Alice..
Thank you. Poor Alice. Please give her a hug from me. Randy
Sad story, well told. I wonder how long before he stops reminding her and just plays along? Heartbreaking stuff.
This story is really beautiful – I love how you show things from her perspective, and how real it feels to her.
I’m over here; http://elmowrites.wordpress.com/2012/08/24/friday-fictioneers-far-afield/
thank you 🙂
We are living this with my stepmother. As mysccalledDutchlife says, they need to stop trying to get her into their world and just go along with hers. (Easier said than done.) Well done for getting into her skin. I am here http://anneorchardwriter.wordpress.com/2012/08/24/misty-friday-fictioneers/
I pray for strength for you and your family.
Thank you. Off to see my Dad , who is having a much needed break, today. Wish I could see him more often and be more help.
Heartbreaking. That’s the only word for this.
“It was like her life. All she could see were the faint outlines.”Very insightful–