The baby's father would park his motorcycle on the lawn near the front door. Maybe to keep an eye on his prized possession when he was inside the small house, or maybe to have the motorcycle ready for a quick getaway.
The motorcycle would be gone all day sometimes. Then the dad would bring his friends home for an evening, followed by several days of absence.
The young mother continued to sit outside each afternoon, comforting her baby through her own tears.
The motorcycle did not return.
One day the meager possessions were packed into a friend's small truck.
The little house is empty now. The only evidence of the short time tenants is a large green trash can overflowing and boxes and trash scattered at the road.
Hopefully the baby was not named after his father.
Note: This is fiction, I watched a girl with her baby and wrote this story.
14 comments:
I'm glad to know this is fiction. All too often, it IS true and eerily similar. With just a few minor changes, this could be my story.
what a heart rending story...while fiction it has all the reality of life...and one that many live...growing up with out a parent and being unable to understand why they make up their stories to fill in the gaps....well told cici...smiles.
Sad but well written story. Funny how this time of the year can make us bloggers reflective.
This story may be fiction, but it's definitely one that many of us have experienced, one way or the other. It makes it easy to understand my feelings about them, CiCi. Maybe you can write a story about the new baby's wonderful life after the move.
Very well written Cici, and an interesting take from watching the girl with her baby.
I was about to say that was rather sad.
Whew, I'm glad it was fiction. But I know that scenario is all too common.
Wonderfully written, CiCi. I would love to read more fiction from you!
Like the others, I felt relief to know it was fiction.. this time. I had neighbours like that for about one year. I could overhear all sort of heartbreaking things happening in that house. I feared for the safety of the women (it was two young couples, each having had a baby within a couple of weeks of one another) and the infants. Police were called by other neighbours and myself on numerous occasions. Your art does indeed imitate life.
Well written, and as we all know, there is much truth in any story.
I watched an very old, feeble man totter to his car yesterday as I went into the grocery story. He was parked next to me. When I returned, after shopping for about a half hour, he was on the passenger side, arguing with a young woman in the driver's seat. He wanted his vicodin, which I figured out she must have been in the store's pharmacy, picking up for him. I, like you, thought, this would make a good story. Unlike you, I've not written it.
I'm in agreement with the previous comments - a fiction based on real life.
Made my heart ache. Your writing is wonderful.
Happens far too much!
What a poignant story to glean from this scene. That takes a lot of imagination, talent and vision. Seems like there could be a short story (or even a book) inside you...
The theme of abandonment is very strong. I like that you chose a picture along with your words to make the fiction seem very real.
Post a Comment