Uncle Jerry carried the war like a scar. Slice open his tan barrel chest and you’d probably find the blood-soaked jungles beating inside.
One night, not long before he died, Uncle Jerry told me to fetch the old straw hat in his closet. He threw the hat in his fireplace and squirted lighter fluid on it.
He then told me to fetch jumbo marshmallows from his pantry.
We roasted them over the burning hat.
“Did you take the hat from a dead man?” I asked.
“An old friend,” he answered.
We enjoyed the marshmallows in silence.
It was my first funeral.
NIce ending!
Thanks! You convey the horrors of war so well through ellipsis and understatement.
Great story. Imagination rich.
Great story, good twist at the end.
Lovely writing, great imagery.
This is a good one. Touching…brings the hint of a tear to the eye. Loved it.