PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
‘I’ve told you before, only one lamp. We don’t have oil for two,’ says Mumma.
Her eyes are puffy from sewing, hands blotched purple and red because her blood doesn’t move right, so Nana Gert says.
I turn down the wick, blow out the flame, sniff the smoke until it’s gone. I want to ask when Dadda will be home with warm pelts, dried meat, fresh flour and a sugar cane with a red and white twist.
Instead I listen to the wind tugging the door, feel the warm air stolen from my face.
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s Friday Fictioneers. See the photo and write a story to to match see here to join in and to read the other tales.
Word Shamble 
That is a really fine piece of character writing. I was there
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Ah, thank you Neil. I’m glad it worked for you and thanks so much for reading 🙂
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A really evocative piece of writing. I love the contrast of bleakness and the vibrancy of a sugar cane.
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Thank you Louise! I’m really glad it worked for you and thanks so much for the feedback 🙂
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Beautiful little study done there.
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Thank you sweet! You’re very kind 🙂 x
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I loved this take on the prompt.
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Aw, thank you so much! I’m really glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading 🙂
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Brr, “the warm air stolen from my face” — made me shiver to read that! Nice take on the prompt. I see the oil lamps made you go sad too, it’s not just me. 😉
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Thanks Joy. It must have been that gloomy light, the darkness casting a small circle where the action will take place. Makes us all feel like huddling up 🙂
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Lovely last line. Very poignant.
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Thanks so much Graham. Glad the atmosphere came across clearly for you. Let’s hope Dad comes home soon … Thanks for reading 🙂
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Beautifully sad!!
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Thank you so much. Glad the atmosphere came across 🙂
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I really like the use of colour in the descriptive writing.
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Thank you! Yes, in a grey / brown world a stick of red and white sugar must look beautiful. Thanks for reading 🙂
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You carried me back into the past. Nicely done
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Thanks very much Michael 🙂
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sniff the smoke until it’s gone Having used kerosene lamps in a cabin as a child, and now when the power goes out, this line made my nose hurt in a wonderful way. Beautiful piece.
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Thank you so much Alicia. I was trying to include something small, personal – something a child would do. Glad it worked for you. Thanks so much for reading 🙂
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Excellent. I envy your talent for making words count, Lynn.
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Thanks so much Chris. I think writing a lot of flash has helped – you have to edit a lot and pick the exact words when you only have 100 in which to tell a tale. Good fun though. Thanks so much for reading 🙂
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Dear Lynne,
You had me right there in the scene. Wonderful piece of writing.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thank you so much Rochelle. I’m glad it worked for you. I’m just wondering if when (if?) Dadda is coming home … Best wishes 🙂
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I feel cold now. What a great scene, you drew me right in.
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Thanks Gabi. Glad I evoked a chill. I imagine a lonely, isolated, cold existence for them. I hope their stores hold out until Dadda gets back. Thanks for reading 🙂
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Great piece, you make it easy to imagine the situation.
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Thanks very much Kathrin. Glad it woked for you 🙂
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You describe the despair of poverty and strife so well, reminds me a bit of Germinal…
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So many people have (and still have) indescribably sad and hard lives. Glad a little of that came across in this. Thanks so much Bjorn.
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I agree with all the comments. This is a strong and moving story with some exceptional lines. My favorite was ‘ feel the warm air stolen from my face’
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Thank you so much for the lovely comment. Yes, I rejigged that line a few times until it felt as right as I could get it. I wonder if Dad will make it back in time though. Thanks for reading 🙂
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Sounds like a harsh story, or more that the characters have a harsh life at this point in history. The sound like settlers of some kind, surviving just barely and not able to help the Mom who has health issues. Great write!
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Thank you. Yes, some of our forebears experienced nothing but harshness all their lives – we have it so easy in comparison. Thanks very much for reading 🙂
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You’re welcome.
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🙂
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A wonderfully descriptive tale of difficult times. I liked your take on the prompt.
Isadora 😎
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Thank you so much. Yes, hard times for all. Thinking of that kind of life always makes me grateful for being given a different one. Thanks so much for reading
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Great last line and a good reminder of far we have come.
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Thanks Dawn. Yes, we’re very lucky aren’t we? I always try to remind myself of that and tales like this help me do so. Thanks so much for reading
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Once again I read your work and have difficulty expressing how impressed I am.
This is wonderful.
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Thank you! Love to throw in a bit of historical fiction and I’m always drawn to the ordinary people, rarely the rich and privileged. Thank you very much – you’re very kind 🙂
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Terrific atmosphere and characters. Their struggle and the despair just under the surface contrast so well with the narrator’s childish optimism, and the image of warmth being stolen is a powerful conclusion.
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Thank you so much Margarte for your thoughtful comment. Sometimes it’s better to be a child through these times – my father in law grew up in Coventry during War II (a very heavily bombed city). He played on bombsites, collected shrapnel, had a fantastic time. I’m sure his parents found it much tougher.
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