The son

He drove his parents into the canal. When passers-by came to the rescue, he had to abandon his plan.

Next time he thought ‘better safe than sorry’ – he shot them in the head.

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This was written in response to this weekend’s Trifecta challenge and inspired by a news story.

Trifextra: Week Sixty-One

This weekend we’re asking for exactly 33 words including an idiom somewhere within.  Examples of idioms include – add fuel to the fire or wear your heart on your sleeve.  You can find more examples and a definition of idiom here.

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I don’t want to ride that horse

Among the family photos there was one that fascinated me. It was a black and white picture, taken in my dad’s home village.  It was of a magnificent looking horse, with my dad sitting very straight on it, my sister sitting in front of him and me behind. My sister must have been around three at the time, I was two years older.

I used to look at that photo, wanting to remember being there and wanting to ride a horse again.  Finally, one summer when I was about fourteen and we were visiting the village, I persuaded dad to ask one of his relatives to let me ride one of their horses.  He duly obliged, so did the relative and someone went off to get a horse.

I waited for this horse with barely disguised excitement.  When it arrived my heart sank – my head barely reached the horse’s shoulder.  It was ENORMOUS and I became too scared to ride it.

I was too proud to tell them I was afraid and after all my insistence and the trouble everyone had gone to, I couldn’t very well say I didn’t want to ride anymore.  I remember that I was wearing a strapped light summer dress and that I gave some ridiculous excuse about it not being possible for me to sit on such a big horse wearing a dress! Dad was not impressed with my change of heart.

After that I wasn’t interested in horses anymore.  I eventually rode a couple of times while on vacation.  I don’t recollect much about the first ride but the second time I remember being pretty scared, especially when we started going down to a beach following a narrow path on the edge of a cliff.  I had absolutely no control over the horse, it just did what it always did, no matter whether I kicked it with my feet or pulled the reins.  Once it got on the beach it started galloping. That was terrifying as well as extremely uncomfortable!

My feelings weren’t helped when a friend bought a horse that turned out not to like being ridden by women.  He threw her off once and then someone else.

These are not terribly dramatic experiences but they were enough to put me off horses.  I can admire their beauty but I think of them as untrustworthy and try to keep as far away from them as possible… until my recent visit to Rome, that is.

Roman horse

I know this sounds crazy, but as I passed this horse (in picture), it seemed to look right at me, following me with his sad gaze as I walked towards it.  My friend waited for me, as I pathetically froze in front of the horse.  It just kept looking right back at me and I felt compelled to pat its head. I eventually left wondering what had happened there.  It was as if there had been some sort of connection and I felt an overwhelming compassion for this creature.

I am not sure if my impressions of horses will ever really change but after this, I might just be a bit more relaxed the next time I come across one.

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These memories were triggered by reading ‘Horse Feather Boa‘, a short humorous story by Russell Gayer.

Friday Fictioners: Do you remember?

–      Oh my god, look at these oil lamps! Do you remember when we used to spend the summer holidays with grandma and these were the sole source of lighting in the evenings?  That was only 30 odd years ago but they still had no electricity then!

–      Well, that was only because they built the house in the middle of nowhere.

–      I know, but the point is that it wasn’t that long ago!  Looking at these now really brings back memories of the happy days we spent here.

–      Come on, let’s finish clearing the house, who knows what other treasures we’ll find.

Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

I have found recently that I actually enjoy writing short pieces from prompts. No literary ambition here, just opening my mind and going with whatever comes up.

Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a one hundred word story from a photo prompt. This is run by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and anyone can participate.

Check out the link to see what others have done with this week’s prompt.



Looking at the rain

She sits alone in the café looking at the rain through the window.

She cannot remember why there was always so much rebellion in her life.

All she can think of is how lonely she is.

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I came across a writing challenge in bodhisattvaintraining’s blog from Trifecta:

We are giving you three words and asking that you add another 33 to them to make a complete 36-word response.  You may use the words in any order you choose.

Our three words are:

remember / rain / rebellion

I thought I would try doing this, even if I am not entering the challenge.  I was so shocked when I finished the last sentence at exactly 36 words, I felt compelled to post it.