By Sam Payne
The mountain visits me in my dreams and tells me I’m unlovable.
I mutter this to Mama, over breakfast, and she drives me there where we sit on grass still wet with dew and watch our breath curl in the cool, dawn air.
“It’s the shock,” she says. “It changes people.”
At the hospital, Papa looks away when we enter. The doctor taps the sole of Papa’s foot, drums gently on other parts of his body.
After each touch, Papa shakes his head.
I take his hand and wonder how it can be so warm when he feels nothing at all.
This flash is really beautiful and evocative – even in 101 words! It gives me hope this morning and makes me feel like getting back to that story I was thinking about. Thank you.
So poignant.
The first sentence drew me in. The details, such as grass still wet with dew and the doctor tapping on the sole of Papa’s foot root me in the moment. I don’t know what happened nor the gender of the main character, but I lean into this telling and feel the discord with Papa.
Moving but sad in a way.