Going Home #writerscommunity

Many thanks to Rochelle for Friday Fictioneers.


Going Home

All those shootings in Norfolk. I hope you’re being safe. Mama texted.

Just over a week later I’m sitting on the rough stone fence outside the overflowing church, arms folded, my black dress absorbing sunshine, the unnatural heat of this late October day, while a chill still finds me.

Mama, Davey, Jane gone. The Montgomerys. Lucy. Old Mr. Wyatt. The Bean brothers.

A shadow falls over me. Jim and I share a glance, a silent surreal moment before a lone voice sings, “Going Home.”

A startling breeze shudders through sycamores.

I never thought I needed to tell Mama: Be safe.


10 thoughts on “Going Home #writerscommunity

    1. Thanks, Lisa. I’d like to think that one day we’ll have enough citizens with enough courage to say, “no” to guns. Other countries don’t have this nonsense. I don’t know why we have it.

  1. The fragility of life is hard to accept. Though I guess we’re getting more callused to it. Shootings used to be shocking. Now, I can’t help but sigh and think, “Again?”, which is a luxury not afforded to those directly affected.

    If I didn’t know better, I would think that was James Earl Jones singing “Going Home.”

    1. This last one hit me. Maybe because it was a small town. I hate that we accept guns as a part of our civilization….which isn’t civilized. Yeah. Paul Robeson had a unique history and a great voice.
      Thank you.

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