| General Flash Fiction posted November 14, 2022 |
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Three 100 word stories.
A Beacon
by papa55mike
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1
Not a day goes by that we don't see Miss Tabby bouncing down Main Street. Her lilac dress flows behind her dashing figure while the blonde curls dance around her gorgeous face - a youthful beacon to all men.
She'll be mailing pen pal letters for Mrs. Allison Newell. An elderly spinster that writes notes of encouragement to lonely soldiers in military hospitals. Her letters have been called magnificent healers.
With the letters delivered, Miss Tabby straightens her hat and dabs a little perfume. She'll walk a little slower home while every man lines the street, hoping for a whiff.
2
Something shines ahead, a light, a star, or a beacon from a lighthouse. Whatever it is, there's a sense of consciousness flowing from each particle of the beam - giving the power to absorb the hopelessness that starves the mind of its vital nourishment of wisdom. A knowledge that brings truth before me. But is it, or a revelation of life throughout time where the past kisses the future? Where peace and kindness permeate the stars in every galaxy. Where the touch of a hand that isn't like mine brings the healing of the mind. Where a smile brings needed love.
3
Mama opens the curtains and places a lantern on the table. She trims the wick and walks back to her rocking chair, wiping the corners of both eyes.
I stop my writing, asking, "Mama, who's the lamp for?"
She answers, "It's a beacon for your Father, son."
"But Papa died in the war before I was born."
"Yes, he did, Tommy. But the body was never returned, and his spirit still roams until he makes it home."
"How will you know he's home?"
"When the lamp turns itself off."
A breath quenches the lamp.
"Welcome home, Papa!"
1
Not a day goes by that we don't see Miss Tabby bouncing down Main Street. Her lilac dress flows behind her dashing figure while the blonde curls dance around her gorgeous face - a youthful beacon to all men.
She'll be mailing pen pal letters for Mrs. Allison Newell. An elderly spinster that writes notes of encouragement to lonely soldiers in military hospitals. Her letters have been called magnificent healers.
With the letters delivered, Miss Tabby straightens her hat and dabs a little perfume. She'll walk a little slower home while every man lines the street, hoping for a whiff.
2
Something shines ahead, a light, a star, or a beacon from a lighthouse. Whatever it is, there's a sense of consciousness flowing from each particle of the beam - giving the power to absorb the hopelessness that starves the mind of its vital nourishment of wisdom. A knowledge that brings truth before me. But is it, or a revelation of life throughout time where the past kisses the future? Where peace and kindness permeate the stars in every galaxy. Where the touch of a hand that isn't like mine brings the healing of the mind. Where a smile brings needed love.
3
Mama opens the curtains and places a lantern on the table. She trims the wick and walks back to her rocking chair, wiping the corners of both eyes.
I stop my writing, asking, "Mama, who's the lamp for?"
She answers, "It's a beacon for your Father, son."
"But Papa died in the war before I was born."
"Yes, he did, Tommy. But the body was never returned, and his spirit still roams until he makes it home."
"How will you know he's home?"
"When the lamp turns itself off."
A breath quenches the lamp.
"Welcome home, Papa!"
Many thanks for stopping by to read!
Have a great day, and Gods bless.
mike
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Have a great day, and Gods bless.
mike
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