Final Photo

There’s something missing.

After a slow thorough scan of our almost-two-decade house—“Mom!!!”

The last photo dad has captured before he turned into unrecognisable pieces, is missing! I grew old admiring that heartfelt, solitary moment between the soldier and his dog. Now it’s missing!

“What happened!?”

“Dad’s final shot is missing, Mom!!!”

“No, son. It isn’t. I took it down.”

“What? Why? I tho—.”

I’m too confused to think and speak, while my ageing mom looks so close to tears.

“You’re only two when your dad left for the war. He snapped that photo seconds before the soldier and the dog was blown apart. He actually… survived.  But… he never came back. He looked for the soldier’s widow, found her, fall for her. He left us, to be with her.”

Word count: 130

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Pixabay


In response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (FFfAW) March 15, 2016.

Rules:

  • a flash fiction challenge (stories in 100-175 words or less)
  • each story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end
  • no serial (continuation) stories
  • include a pingback to the challenge post

Thank you for a beautiful prompt, Priceless Joy!

Read more short stories here: