It’s Friday Fictioneers— my weekly dose of flash fiction, from a photo prompt. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields brings us together, with photo prompts from various sources. The challenge is to write a story with a beginning, middle and end, and only 100 words. Check out other stories on Rochelle’s page, here. My story is 99 words.
Image: Sandra Cooke
“I want to do it on my own, James.” Geraldine’s voice hinted at a whine she hated to hear. She cleared her voice and continued. “I’ve waited thirty years to explore these ruins again; I refuse to let my… illness, keep me from it.”
“Darling, Huntington’s can’t keep you from that— There’s a railing; please use it.”
“More cold metal, another reminder that I can’t walk on my own anymore.” She paused, afraid she’d cry. “I want to walk, and remember how sweet it was, the day I met you here.”
“Then take my hand, love. Take my hand.
As soon as I saw the photo this week, the railing jumped out at me. It struck me as jarring to see ancient ruins with the dark line of the rail, running through the view. And then I began to think about the people who rely on that rail. The story was right there.
This post is dedicated to my mother, my aunt, and my grandmother, who all lived with Huntington’s Disease (learn more here), and remained fiercely independent to the end. It’s dedicated to my sister who fights HD, and holds her husband’s hand, because she loves to. It’s a reminder that we don’t need to go it alone.
As always, I appreciate your feedback: positive or constructive, and welcome any comments.
TALES FROM THE MOTHERLAND 
Sweet and poignant, Dawn. And so personal for you. I sorry you have lost so many in your family to Huntington’s. This may be too personal a question, so please forgive me if it is, but I’m assuming that it skipped you since it usually shows up in someone’s thirties?
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Not personal at all, Cathy, and I appreciate your interest… I’ve written a lot about it (and have a second blog The Huntington’s Chronicles, that focuses on HD in my family, and my journey). I do not have it, but both my siblings do, and my mother, grandmother and 49 yr old aunt (we were 5 years apart) died of it. It follows me, in the ugliest ways.
I’m glad you liked this post. It just wrote itself. Something about that railing. Thanks for your kind words.
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Thanks, Dawn. I checked out The Huntington’s Chronicles. The only word that I can come up with is devastating. I pray that someday, with all the new research on genetics that this horrible disease is eliminated from the human genome.
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From your keypad to Gd’s ears, Cathy. It has been a horrific road for our family, and so many others. Not enough awareness, and not enough funding, but there is hope… Thanks for taking the time. I don’t broadcast that page, as it’s very personal, but I’m glad you read it.
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Me too, Dawn. Me too.
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🙂 xo
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I love the ending.
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Thanks Dawn! I appreciate your time and effort, to comment. I wanted it to end well… with HD it rarely does.
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Lovely story and lovely write-up as well. Good luck to everyone in your family.
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Thanks Perry. It’s a difficult road, with no silver linings or good luck; but, writing about it always helps. Thanks for taking the time to read and comment; much appreciated.
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BTW, I have made numerous efforts to comment on yours and your site won’t take my comment! I’ve registered several ways. I like it! I also said I will happily give up my mattress/room for you, Perry… you’re good doobey for getting us all there! Love Friday Fictioneers!
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The railings do seem inconsistent with the place itself. I’m glad someone wrote with the focus on them. And what a creative way to tie the prompt to encouraging those who deal with the disease.
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Thanks Sandra. They got stuck on my thoughts and them the story just found life. Thanks for taking the time to ready story and comment; much appreciated.
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By the way, I love your header photo.
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Thanks! I took it at a lavender farm not too far from where I live. It was gorgeous!
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Nicely done, Dawn. I’m so sorry this disease is plaguing your family. I wish them the best.
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Thanks, Amy. It’s always with me… Hence the story. Thanks for taking the time. 🙂
Sent from Dawn’s iPhone
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Moving story touching on a dreadful disease. Well done. ‘Medal’ should be ‘metal’?
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Oops! Hate when I make those silly typos. Thanks Sandra; I’m off to fix it!! Much appreciated.
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I love how you achieve poignancy and eloquence with such economy of words. One more way that I want to be like you when I grow up. – Mike
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I’d like to be like me when I grow up, in real life. 😉 Thanks Mike, you know I love you back.
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Dear Dawn,
You DARE me to comment?
Medal to metal. Other than that, your story flew off the page and brought tears to my eyes. Very wonderful, heartwarming and sweet tale.
Aloha,
Doug
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I do dare you, Doug, and there you go, taking my dare. 😉 Thanks for your sweet comment; much appreciated. Now, go get a tissue. I feel badly making you cry. Aloha!
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Dear Dawn,
The stories based on personal experience are usually the most touching. That she hated her own whine is telling. Loved the last line…showed his caring and devotion in a few words. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks Rochelle. I think many of us notice our own weak moments, the things we’d like to change… With HD, there are so many things that challenge you on so many levels, the whine seemed inevitable, but something she’d loath in herself. I always appreciate your feedback; thanks for your commitment to FF. 🙂
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Nice, poignant.
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Thanks Lisa. 🙂
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This was a story that proves that with a personal touch it just gets better. Living with this kind of disease in the family much be frightening, I love that sweet touch of the hands that just made it bittersweet.
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Thanks Björn. It is frightening. Interestingly, you are the 2nd person to say that in 24 hours (the other, in a conversation face to face), but yes, that’s an accurate word, for sure. I thought the hand holding would be a great way to pull back from the railing. Thanks for taking the time; much appreciated!
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Shouldn’t have read this. Nope. Nope nope nope. I was already sad, and now I’m crying.
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Oh no! Next week, I will have to write a happy one. 😉
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I arrived too late to do aught but ditto. 🙂 Wonderful story. However, the comma before “she hated to hear” should be removed. It’s just all one sentence.
janet
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More helpful critique; I love it! The comma will be gone. Thanks Janet. I appreciate the feedback.
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So poignant! A wonderful tribute to those in your life who have lived with Huntington’s. It tugs at the heart strings.
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Thanks Tiffany. It’s an on going tug, for my family… the story just found wings with this prompt. Thanks for taking the time to read and and comment. Much appreciated!
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Love this! I have an autoimmune condition that could make me more dependent I the future.. I love your take on this – interdependence. Is much better.
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I’m sorry to hear that Erin. It’s a tough road, knowing and wondering, and being there. I’ve lived it with my family for many years now, and there’s no end in the foreseeable future, in my family. I’m glad that you appreciated the approach and I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment. I hope you’ll check out some other posts on Tales From the Motherland. 🙂
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Beautiful story and lovely the way you have worked the railing into story to highlight the reference to Huntingtons. Very moving story
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Thanks a lot for that feedback. Personally, the railing just jumped out at me and I kept being drawn back to it. From there, the story just found a voice. I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
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The story and the after story, both touching. Well done.
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Thanks so much Honie. I appreciate your feedback and time.
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It’s no wonder the railing spoke to you. Sorry to hear the toll Huntington’s has taken on your family. You told the story very well in a hundred words.
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Thank you Patti. I think the railing jumped out, initially, because it cuts the photo… but then, it took on some significance and I ran with it. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂
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dear Dawn,
a very touching story, a whole life in 100 words, my respect! A wonderful synonym for “will you love each other in good and in bad days” –
liebe Grüße
Carmen
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Thanks Carmen. I have been traveling and still need to read the rest of the FFs but it is so fun to see where they go! Thanks so much for taking the time.
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This story was so heartfelt, and it brought tears to my eyes, Dawn. Then I read the notes at the end and realized the significance for you. A powerful and beautiful story.
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Thanks for taking the time to check out my post, and share your feedback, Lynda. Much appreciated. Yes, the significance is huge, and goes on and on. Some days that’s hard, and some days it just is what it is, life.
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