By NT Franklin
Mary tried to be cheery. October was her family’s favorite month of the year. All the men went bird hunting—grouse, or partridge as they called them in Maine.
But all October did was remind Mary of death.
During October, the leaves on the trees turned vivid colors. This meant they were going to die.
The first frost always came in October. Frost meant the death of her garden.
October days started cold and ended colder. Like the day, four Octobers ago, her husband, the boys’ father, didn’t return from bird hunting. Accidental discharge killed him. He is never coming back.
Ow – I didn’t see that coming! Striking!
I understood the destination, I liked the journey – the end not so much. You might try:
“October …. ended colder.” Like that coldest of days, that didn’t return her husband because of an accidental discharge.
I don’t want to lessen the impact of heartbreak, just suggesting that you wordsmith the last paragraph to compliment the rest of your hard work.
wonderful read 🙂
Good job, NT.
Poignant…
Engrossing, bittersweet…rested gently within my psyche. I like it!