Thanks so much for your thoughtful comments and helpful suggestions. I appreciate it.
Flash Fiction / Coastal farewell
Sarah stands on the bridge, looking over the bay, her mittened hands holding a tin can. It is not flashy, this can, it cannot properly be described as decorative, but it has a certain classic appeal. Silver, with a matte finish, and a size that would accommodate two dozen small cookies. You would not be embarrassed to give a holiday gift in this tin. In fact, you might feel a delicate sense of superiority over those whose tins are covered with gaudy candy canes or santas. Likely you would not like to receive this tin from her now, as it contains, not cookies, but what remains of her father. She is standing on the bridge with her sister waiting for a surge of something, wanting to meet this moment completely. Instead she feels nothing but the task of it. She knows that if she were watching this scene in a film, two women about to scatter the ashes of their departed father, with all the attendant music and cinematography, she would be weeping with the hugeness of it. But in the here and now the seconds are ticking away and the epiphany is not coming. There is no inkling of it whatsoever. A look at her sister confirms a similar circumstance.
“Okay…”
“Do you want…”
“Should we together?”
“Okay.”
“I can’t get this lid off.”
“Be careful not to…”
“Okay. Ready?”
“I guess.”
Her hands close over her sister’s around the base of the tin. They upend it over the side of the bridge, watch the grey dust swirl and descend, coating the water. It looks like the contents of a vacuum cleaner bag, only finer. She tosses a flower on top of it all, because that’s what they would do in the movie. What she really should do, she thinks, is dive into that water, through her father, forcing herself to be part of the moment. But it’s February, and this is the coast of Maine. The river carries the ashes underneath the bridge, toward the sea.
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fatty1016 reviewed Version 1 -
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I like how this piece was put together. starting with the tin can for cookies, but really its of the protag’s fathers remains. the dialogue was great, the best part, very real, i could sense the uncertainty that laid within the can. i thing i wasnt so sure of though is the ending, how the protag wants to dive in? why? it could just be me and my amatuer ways, but i think you could have written a little bit more. good luck with everything.
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BeccathePromoMami reviewed Version 1 -
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This piece really captures the reality of grieving! there are no violins playing or aerial shots in the real world. this was uncomfortable for me to read, but in a good way.
the dialogue is very realistic in that it’s awkward and fumbling – as i’m sure it would be in a situation like this.
the opening paragraph sets firm ground for the story to begin in. by talking about cookies initially, it heightens the impact the reader feels when we discover what the modest tin actually holds.
“waiting for a surge of something” is a great line… i can feel the hopelessness of what the character must be going through.
Suggestions: Maybe try telling the story from Sarah’s POV. That might draw the reader into the story more quickly. It’s flash fiction, so you only have so long to get the reader invested in the characters. That also might eliminate some of the expository tone… the descriptions are good, but in some parts I feel like Sarah’s feelings are being explained too much—rather than shown to the reader.
i really enjoyed reading this.
denbatch reviewed Version 1 -
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I loved the little bit of dialog in the middle of this. I really like how Sarah is struggling to find the magnitude of the moment. Nicely done!
LadyMactans reviewed Version 1 -
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It’s a nice scene. Well written. I’m not sure it could be flash fiction since it’s pretty clear what’s going on from the beginning, it’s also more of a scene than a completed story, I think. There’s not much background or development. Seems weird that she’d want to dive into her father, too, but maybe that’s just me. Anyway, I like the descriptions and the dialogue and the writing in general. Not bad.
saveusjeebus reviewed Version 1 -
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dealing with dead people always ups the emotional ante so to speak. in this case, i think setting it on a bridge was a good move. sets things up nicely. if i were writing it, i would stretch out the part on the bridge and shorten the part about the can in the beginning. i don’t feel the can is the emotional center of the story, but rather the process of opening the can over the river
Protagoras reviewed Version 1 -
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contains, not < delete comma
Should we together < DO IT together
Love the incongruity of vacuum cleaner bag vs. Precious scattering!
Very simple, but well done enoough. I hat it when people say ‘i think you should expand this…blah blah blah…’ but well, i do think you could do one of several things
1) More humour
2) Tell us a bit about who the father was/ his relationship with the daughter
3) Bring in a punchline
4) More inventive description of the scenery
I can see it in my head this story, but think you have more to give.
Korp reviewed Version 1 -
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Short and poignant. I especially liked your contrast of reality vs. hyperreality; too often we forget that what Hollywood churns out is hardly reflective of the real world.
I loved the sentence that reveals what the tin contains. The unexpected revelation adds some comedy into the situation.
My only criticism would be with using the present tense. I might be wrong, but it seems like this could work just as fine with the more common past tense.
Very good.
Sparkles reviewed Version 1 -
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I liked it and could picture it easily.
“watch the grey dust” should be watching.
tildesk reviewed Version 1 -
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oh my. This actually sort of happened to me. My father died when i was 16 and my sister and I poured the last of his ashes into the sea from a board walk.
Beautiful story.
ewilly75 reviewed Version 1 -
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captures a moment beautifully. i especially like the part where she wants to dive into the ashes.
any consideration for her sister? what is the woman thinking of her sister right now?
you took me completely to the moment. i am there and it is cold, and no more or less fitting for scattering ashes than a sunny day in july. the coldness adds a blearyness and blurs both physical and emotional definition.
very good, keep writing
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