No Goodbyes

I like the tone of the prose, Kim -

"The sight is ironically beautiful.

He watches from the porch as she follows the truck out of the driveway.

She turns onto the road and doesn't look back."

And the form works well. Good piece. Nice fit for 52|250.

Thanks so much, Sam! I love your thoughtful comments.

Had she looked back, "No Goobyes" might have been called "The Last Goodbye." You are such an excellent writer, Kim. In only 133 words, you capture the poignancy of one of life's saddest moments. *.

This is so great. The short, conciseness of it...yet it says so much. And says it so prettily.

i love how visual your writing is. must ask you what you do to yourself, apparently on a regular basis, to get out of your head and into your eyes. this is wonderful. uncharacteristically, i like the "walled garden" scene most.

Thanks Frank, Jules and Marcus!

Marcus, the walled garden, for me, is the thing out of place that captures something. So glad you liked it!

Nicely done, Kim. It has a sense of remembrance that makes it so believable.

Not looking back ...

So believable, I miss the dog. See what you've done?

LOL! Guess I got the dog factor workin' for me!

Thanks, James! Glad you liked it!

vivid and poignant, nicely done.

Really nice setting here, Kim! Interestingly, I read that line that Sam picked out as one that you might consider deleting. I love the garden scene precisely because it stands out in such stark and hopeful contrast to all the rest. And therefore, I don't think the observation that it is 'ironically beautiful' is necessary. Try it without? See: I love the beauty of the transition from those roses surviving winter to him watching them go. So much loneliness there, without the commentary between.

Just my take, of course. You know what to do. You always do. Either way, this is a gorgeous scene.

Thanks LA and Michelle. Glad you liked it!

Michelle, good comment. In the "ironically beautiful" line, I was going for the feeling we often have during intense emotional experiences, that of standing outside yourself, watching.

But, a moment like that might be difficult in flash fiction. I will definitely ponder...

So much said so well Kim and in such a short space. I really enjoyed this story.

Short and quick sentences with lots of energy. My favorite.

Kim your work captures me everytime and always feels a bit like a film. You write so well of coupling and uncoupling. Fav.

Very fine.

Love the resonance of: "They are the first roses to have survived a winter."

Suggestions:

"It glows a cheery pale pink."
Too many adjectives. Take one out.

"The sight is ironically beautiful."
Take out ironically. Let the reader figure that out.

You get the prize for the best last of ... what? The day? The week? The month? What the hell, maybe the whole damn year!

Thanks, Bill and Jack! Bill, will edit....

* from me

Thanks, Mata!

A great story that is unsettling. I hope this character will do no more than ask where she's going. I love the interaction b/w him and the movers and their ignorance (smart woman to keep them in the dark!)

I'm sometimes too much in the "less is more" camp, but I'd consider axing the final line if this goes in a collection. I love the idea of him watching and her following the truck and knowing she'll have to overtake the truck later so they can follow her but right now she's following it into hopefully a better life.

Thanks for the comment and the suggestion, David! It would be a spookier ending. Hmm....

I love this, Kim, esp. the dog that she leaves behind. So, so good. It reminds me of Ann Beattie.
Wonderful!

Thanks so much, Marcelle!

Completely standing outside of herself. So well rendered. *

Thanks, Cherise!

How did I miss this? It's beautifully sad, wonderfully visual. Nice!

Thanks, Susan!

I love the detail in this piece - the dog, the birdbath. It makes it so vivid. I found it poignant but also a little creepy, that he is asking the movers where they are going...
Great response to the theme.

Thanks, Claire! Glad you liked it.

I like these kinds of stories, cryptic and uneasy, and like writing them, too. People tend to ask: why did she live in such a house? My mind asks that now but knows there is no real answer.
Very good story
*

Thanks, Susan, for your thoughtful comment and fave.

It's a good question, why people live in such circumstances. I don't have an answer, either, but I suspect that it happens slowly, so that they don't see it until it's too late. And I suspect fear has a lot to do with it, too, maybe fear of change, or being discovered in some way, or of just being alone.

This manages to be both spare, and lush, at the same time Kim. I feel so much reading this yet you never come out and say exactly what's going on. But it's the tone you set so masterfully, the places you decide to shine your light on here, that tell the story for me. That house has been neglected, that dog is lost, the truck is backing out of the driveway. Whoosh. Sad stuff. Fave.

Thanks so much, Kathy!

Splendid, and puzzling; beautiful and ugly; like so much that begs to be written about.

Thanks, Beate. I appreciate the read and the comment very much.