by Cami Park
A woman's hair is her crowning glory, my grandmother always said. Brush it every night, one hundred strokes.
She also once told me she felt like she was drowning. We had been doing the dishes together in silence, her freckled hands wrist-deep in suds. I placed the plate I'd been drying in the rack and leaned over the sink on tiptoe to look out the window at the star-speckled sky. Searched for the Milky Way, scanned for the moon.
"We had been doing the dishes together in silence, her freckled hands wrist-deep in suds."
Cami, this line drew me in.
Staccato is doing some great things.
This one has me thinking, Cami. I'm not sure what to make of it, but I know it grabs hold.
I like the image of the grandmother at the sink. I see her forlorn and resigned, the narrator "starry" eyed and full of hope.
Young. Old. Hope. Resignation. That whole sort of thing, I think. That's where this puts me.
Thanks, you guys.
some really lovely images & writing. i particularly appreciate the simple lines, the ones that gouge the reader, right in the gut.
Lovely.
Thanks, Lily and Katrina!
this micro rocks the Casbah. i haven't read one i've liked better for a good while....
Really pretty. I like writing about hair!
Thank you, Rachel and Scott. :)
Love this one, Cami!
Thanks, Arlene!
About 78% sure this is beautifully minimalist.
Thanks, Craig. :)
Love grandmother stories. Beautiful.
Thanks, Gary. :)
gorgeous, cami. there needs to be more flash fiction about grandmothers.
Thanks, Alec. :)
This is good. But the ending is a bit soft. I would say re-reference some part of "the body" at the end.
Thanks!
just re-read this in staccato. i got something accepted there tonight and am thrilled to have my work next to this piece. outstanding work, cami.
Oh, wow, thanks, David! Congrats on your Staccato acceptance-- it's a great place.
Enjoyed reading this, Cami.
Thanks, Sam. :)
Hey friend, congrats on getting this in Best of the Web. Well deserved.