This was written for Carrot Ranch’s Flash Fiction Challenge. Thanks, Charli!
Some Things Are Not Chiseled in Stone (99 words)
Conversations weren’t easy with Dad after Mom left. What he said, went. Case closed.
The case for my art didn’t close, not for me. I spent hours at Megan’s in her father’s workshop chiseling aspen, Foo Fighters pounding through my head. When I qualified for the art competition, I lied to Dad about where I’d be and forged his name on the permission slip.
At the show, Dad stood by my carving of our dog, Dali. My stomach dropped.
“I’m not a monster,” he said. “You lied.”
“I’m sorry.”
His finger drifted across the first-place ribbon. “We should talk.”
end
Sascha Darlington
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Categories: carrot ranch, Flash Fiction
Lovely 🙂
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Thank you, Susan.
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Touched my heart.
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Yay! Thanks, Maggie!
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Hopefully he will help her develop her talent after seeing the ribbon.
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So much expressed in that final exchange, Sascha.
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Thank you, Charli! 🙂
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That was so sweet.
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Thank you so much! 🙂
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A happy ending, and no alligators so far. An enjoyable read, Sascha. I am wondering about the surrealist dog, Dali.
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Actually, that may be a Borges story in the offing: the surrealist dog, Dali. 🙂
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That sounds promising. Historically, artists were practically deified. Now, such talents are sadly scarcely cultivated or even encouraged.
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Well, some artists were deified. Many died in poverty and it was only after death that they secured fame…alas fortune went to? But I agree with the fact that most people don’t care about art or good literature any longer.
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Yeah, I guess we never hear about the failures.
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I guess what I meant was that the value of some artists was no recognized in their lifetime. 🙂
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