We were led along a narrow lane into the backyard of a house. A hosepipe coiled round the base of a banyan tree – emerald green and dusty – an equally dusty tortoiseshell cat coiled on a nearby garden chair.
The gallery was a wooden construction built onto the back of the house, the roof glass, letting in any dappled light that escaped the clutches of the banyan.
Sonny handed his kyats over to the elderly artist and strode in. I watched the twitch of his shoulders through his sweat-soaked shirt as he moved from one image to the next. The trip had been good for us. Time to heal, learn how to be a couple again, not a family.
‘Kim.’ An edge in his voice.
A painting. A little girl with Sonny’s charcoal eyes, my ash-blond hair. Our little girl, holding the ragged Mr Ted we buried with her.
***
Written for What Pegman Saw, the prompt that uses Google Street View as its starting point. This week we visit Myanmar. See here to join in.
Word Shamble 
That is so… moving.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you kindly 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Smiles. 🙂
LikeLike
Whoa. That is so spooky. I love the description of the image, too. Well done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks very much Josh
LikeLike
Oh, wow! That sent an absolute shudder down my spine. Lovely foreshadowing as well, Lynn, with the words “Time to heal, learn how to be a couple again, not a family.” Wonderful storytelling!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Penny. Glad that line worked for you. I considered taking it out at one point, not knowing if it was a little heavy handed. Thanks so much for your kind comment
LikeLike
The last line made me gasp. I, too, especially loved the line, “Time to heal, learn how to be a couple again, not a family.” Great storytelling!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much Karen. Glad you liked it 🙂
LikeLike
Whoa! Well done and heartbreaking and so well painted in words. Wow.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dear Lynn,
You are an artist with words. I had to read twice, the second time to savor. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much Rochelle. You’re very kind 🙂
LikeLike
I like the way the story, at first, reads like a couple’s frivolous getaway from the stresses of life with children. This leads to the assumption that the children have been left safe at home in the care of some competent person. Suddenly, your story turns into a grieving couple’s search, for an explanation to the mysterious premature death of their beloved child. This story has legs!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You write so beautifully, Lynn. This goes right to the heart.
I’m just left wondering how this union between artist and couple came to be…
LikeLike
That’s a really interesting question, Dale. I imagined the encounter accidental (at least on the part of the parents) but there could be some connection there already. Thank you once more for your support and kind comment
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure.
LikeLike
Heartbreaking stuff.
LikeLike
Thank you so much for reading
LikeLike
Brilliant, as always. Your judgement is unerring. “Time to heal, learn how to be a couple again, not a family.” Perfect. The warning of what was to come felt like a kindness to your readers, but nothing could have softened the blow of that tragic closing line. We are puppets in your hands, Lynn. You tickle my masochistic side – I don’t know whether I’d be overjoyed, or disappointed, if you flashed a happy ending. 🙂
LikeLike
Haha! I’m not good at happy endings, it’s true. Though all my novel ideas up to now have happy endings. I just couldn’t take readers through so many thousand words only to kill off a protagonist – it feels too harsh 🙂 . Thank you so much, Jane
LikeLiked by 1 person
You don’t have to kill him – just have him unmasked as the evil genius and maim him a little 🙂 . Or better still, ignore my suggestion and carry on writing the way you do…
LikeLike
Haha! I might give it a go.
LikeLiked by 1 person