I didn’t realize that people were leaving comments for me at Flashing In The Gutters where my flash fiction piece When The Bough Breaks resides.
I saw that someone got to my blog via the story so I clicked and I found this comment from Heather “A once-inch horrifying frame. I read it through twice like staring at the surgery channel. You just can’t seem to change the channel.”
I’m telling you…I’m walking on the clouds right now! I won’t let m’head get too big, I promise. Heather, thank you for that comment. I guess most people don’t understand why it means so much, but us warped people think those kind of compliments are the best!
Thanks to everyone else who commented. (Even my mom read it! She didn’t even tell me that, I found her comment just now.) I really appreciate you reading through the story.
Here is my entry for the flash fiction contest at Charis Connection
I received part of the inheritance. Many don’t like me because of it.
Most don’t know when they’re going to die. He did, though. He talked about dying. I don’t think we truly believed he would do it until it was over. He left us things to help us understand. He hoped his words had been etched our minds. He prayed for God to protect us. He knew those that hated us would try to attack once we received the earnest on our inheritance.
He knew we would suffer because of his choice. He knew that taking his own life would cause a grief like none other, but he also knew we would be better off if he was gone. He begged for another way, but it was evident this was the only way to ensure we got the inheritance.
We were vaguely aware of the enormity of our inheritance and we certainly didn’t deserve it, but he wanted us to have it. He told us many times what to expect, but we just didn’t understand how much he was leaving us. The arrangements were made in advance. He made sure the whole story was written down. He made provisions for the security of the documents. To those on the outside, it would appear he was murdered, but the truth was that he wanted to die and he would see it through.
I question his suicide often, wondering if I can truly comprehend the complexity of his motives. How can his death be the most beautiful and intoxicating displays of love I have ever experienced? Why would He hang Himself for me?