Moving On (Friday Fictioneers, November 2012)

This week’s photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers comes courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. 

The pair of them drift through the endless winter months as repeated ice storms  keep them indoors, throwing into bold and painful relief the space once occupied by a third member of the household.

Today, the child stands by the window and moves to place her palm on the frosted glass.

“No,” says the grandmother sharply, “it will burn.”

“I need to see,” the child whispers, wincing with pain as the snow-laden garden is revealed through a tiny handprint on the glass.

The grandmother pauses; then sighs.

“Perhaps we both do,” she says, extending the peep-hole with her own wrinkled hand.


I’m on a limited internet facility for the next four weeks, (Tenerife) so I might not be able to comment so widely as I normally do.  However, I’ll endeavour to return the favour for all who visit here.  🙂 

About Sandra

I used to cruise the French waterways with my husband four or five months a year, and wrote fiction and poetry. Now I live on the beautiful Dorset coast, enjoying the luxury of being able to have a cat, cultivating an extensive garden and getting involved in the community. I still write fiction, but only when the spirit moves me - which isn't as often as before. I love animals, F1 motor racing, French bread and my husband, though not necessarily in that order.
This entry was posted in Friday Fictioneers, Just Sayin' and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

38 Responses to Moving On (Friday Fictioneers, November 2012)

  1. janet says:

    Enjoy your time, Sandra, as I enjoyed your story and felt the pain of the child and grandmother.


  2. Beautiful, Sandra. I love the symbolism of the snow-laden garden, the hope of spring (literal and figurative), the wisdom of the young… wonderful piece of writing!


  3. I found myself saying, “aww.” What a special moment both of them will remember. You took me in that room.


  4. Very poignant exchange between child and grandmother. Enjoy your time and take lots of pictures.


  5. Hi Sandra,
    Great scene. I like the warm response of the grandmother to a cold situation. ron


  6. I like the wonderful relationship you’ve created here.

    But who is and where is the
    “throwing into bold and painful relief the space once occupied by a third member of the household” Is it/he/she buried in the garden who used be living in that space in the house with grandma and granddaughter?.


  7. Abraham says:

    I can feel the cold isolated room. Limited dialogue, but not because of tension. Nicely written.


  8. unspywriter says:

    Very poignant and so true to life. It left me very emotional with memories of my grandmother.

    Here’s mine:


  9. Erinleary says:

    Beautiful and intriguing. I’d like to read more….

    Tenerife. Life must be rough! Enjoy your stay!

    Mine is here:


  10. Russell says:

    Tight dialogue and very poignant moment between the child and her grandmother. Well done.


  11. brudberg says:

    I love Tenerife, and hope you can enjoy some of the beautiful hiking they have. Your story left me a little sad, the missing family member is where the story is and it fills my imagination. There is a novel hiding behind that sentence.


  12. Can’t decide who was smarter…grandmother or the child.


  13. billgncs says:

    the young have much to teach their elders… little things like hope and joy that we might have forgotten.


  14. Dear Sandra,

    Enjoy Tenerire,

    I’m intrigued by the mysterious missing third person. sI she buried in the garden or just hasn’t returned? Does not bode well for someone.




  15. vbholmes says:

    ““I need to see,” the child whispers, wincing with pain as the snow-laden garden is revealed through a tiny handprint on the glass.” The physical and emotional pain of loss is evident in these words. Nice job. Enjoy!


  16. Makes me wonder who the third person was. Such a sad story.


  17. Tom Poet says:

    I read this the other day and for some reason I did not comment. I have been running around a bit because of Sandy…this is a great story about the young showing the old that sometimes the pain is worth the knowing and that there is beauty hidden beyond walls often built out of fear.


  18. Beth Carter says:

    Poignant and stirring. Well done. My story is at


  19. Welcome to my world of limited internet time and slow devices. Hope it gets better soon, Now you written a charming entry. I enjoyed it very much. A precious moment in life.


  20. Pingback: The Things She Said – Friday Fictioneers, June 2016 | castelsarrasin

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