Friday Fictioneers: The Last Moments


clouds-above-the-trees
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Grandma opened her eyes for the last time that night, then she recalled, “I remember the day of your grandfather’s passing. It had been raining that entire week. I had just rushed home from the market, my clothes were soaking wet and so were the groceries. I entered the room and your mother was beside his bed, reading to him. His eyes were closed, the doctor had probably given him some medication to help him sleep. Your mother saw me and smiled. I smiled back and opened the curtains. The rain had finally stopped and so did my husband’s heart.”

(100 words)

Each week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple hosts Friday Fictioneers where we’re challenged to write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words, more or less, based on the picture above.

24 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers: The Last Moments

  1. A lovely image of a family unit working as it should. After a forfilling and long life, death allows new life to move forward,

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  2. The part about the rain stopping when his heart did seemed to imply that there was at least comfort in the fact his pain was over, much like the rain, when he passed.

    Liked by 1 person

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