The last thing I’d needed was a reminder of that shameful afternoon.
For my father it was a public validation, an affirmation that the ‘college boy’ he’d raised wasn’t the pathetic wimp he’d seemed.
No-one ever guessed it was an accident; that I took aim intending to move the barrel to the left before I fired.
The damn’ creature moved.
I could hear the whoops’n hollers down by the campsite as I reached the dying animal.
It turned its clear amber gaze upon me, inscrutable, without accusation.
And I wept for the senselessness of it all.
As I was weeping now.
This week I had the pleasure of meeting fellow Friday Fictioneers Janet Webb and her husband Bill whilst they were visiting France, and we spent a lovely afternoon on the River Saone together. I see Dawn (Tales from the Motherland) was also on the move, meeting up with Bjorn. What a bunch of wanderers we are!
Dear Sandra,
The son’s now a hero in his father’s eyes and a murderer in his own. The animal looking up at him took my breath away.
I love the photos. When Friday Fictioneers meet I feel connected. Thanks for sharing them.
shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks Rochelle. It’s a real network, that’s for sure. It was like meeting old friends.
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That is so cool! I too want to tank you for sharing the photos and for you all making the effort and following through.
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I loved this Sandra. “It turned its clear amber gaze upon me, inscrutable, without accusation.” That really moved me.
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Thank you. I got a bit weepy writing it, I’m a sucker for animals.
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The father isn’t much of a father with the way he thinks of his son–or at least the son’s perception of how his father views him. He could be wrong, but there’s likely at least some truth to it.
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I suppose every father hopes that his son will be like him. Or perhaps not?
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It’s one thing for a father to hope a son will be like him. Nothing wrong with that. It’s another for a father to look down on a son for being different. Everything wrong with that.
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Dear Sandra,
Another masterpiece from the bargier (Is that a word?)(I mean, does it mean anything coherent?)
A truly imaginative and well written take on the prompt.
I love the view from the salon of the Desormais. Lovely.
Aloha,
Doug
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Bargee 🙂 And that’s the wheelhouse but I’ll let you off this time. Thanks for reading my story and sorry it apparently took me so long to comment… my computer is playing up. Must be the heat.
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I loved every single word from this piece! Really touching! I guess everything in life is relative. For some hunting is glory. For others it’s an act of killing!
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There’s two sides to everything I guess, but killing if you don’t need to seems weird to me.
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It is hard to fight against narrow minds and cold hearts. Such a tragic story.
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Thank you for dropping by and commenting.
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This was great. I like that you took a more serious and poignant take on the prompt.
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Well to be honest Hannah, the first one I wrote was a funny one, but it didn’t work without using the f-word. (Janet and I discussed that yesterday, and though I think it has its place in literature I decided it was a bit soon after our discussion … 😉 )
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I think in a story with this few words, the f-word could be extra weighty–but I agree, it has it’s place! I struggle with using it, but sometimes, it’s just what a character would say!
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Sandra, Well-written story with deep feeling. How sad the father and son’s minds can’t really connect. Great photos of the four of you. It looked like a lovely afternoon. 🙂 —Susan
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Thank you Susan. Yes, we had a great afternoon, the first truly sunny day since we arrived.
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Dear Sandra,
The conflict is so deep and difficult when two generations are divided in this way. Your story rings true.
All my best,
Marie Gail
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Thanks Marie Gail. 🙂
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Good writing. Father must be so proud he has a son who can shoot a gun 😦
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Thanks Paul. Yes, sometimes worth is measured in that way.
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Strangely enough, I addressed this in my farcical post, All Hail the Nuge (no seriously, I’m not just shamelessly trying to get you over to read it, though you really should, darling.)
I liked the attributes you gave the sheep as your narrator looked into its dead eyes — without accusation. Only two words, but your mind fills in the rest.
I want to hear the story where you drop the F-bomb, though.
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I’ll pop over soon Helena. 🙂 I might let you see the other story, it depends how good you are and how bad I feel.
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Fathers and sons. I wonder had he felt worse if he had validated his father’s feeling that he was a pathetic wimp. I don’t believe in animal sacrifice but this one seems just. He can now move into man hood and away from his father’s labels.
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That’s one way of looking at it Dawn. You’re a lateral thinker, that’s for sure. 🙂
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Beautifully written Sandra. Have you read Goat Mountain by David Vann? This reminded me of that book – which is excellent, although gruelling. I’d recommend it.
Claire
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Hi Claire, no I’ve not read that. I’ll put it on my list. Thanks for reading.
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Your work always serves the dual purpose of not only entertaining but actually meaning something. I was truly moved by this piece. The regret and remorse is the narrator’s voice was very powerful. I’ll never understand how people can gain pride and amusement from killing an innocent creature. Very well done.
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I’m with you on this Adelie. And thanks for reading.
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I’m wanting to call you The Great Encapsulator. That writing of yours is so economical and hits me over the head each time. So many good things in there. Fantastic work again, Sandra!
Love the pictures. It’s great each time I think of FF people meeting each other in person!
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Thanks Kent, what a lovely compliment. Yes, it was like meeting an old friend on Tuesday – lovely.
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Lovely pictures Sandra 🙂 the story reminded me of a philosophy class I took..I believe the theme was, which view we held as more important; our view of ourselves or the view others have of us. Nice one.
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That’s an interesting concept. It ought to be the former, but I suspect in many cases it’s the latter. Thanks for reading.
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I can feel his pain through your words. Poor guy!
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Thanks for reading. 🙂
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I really love this story Sandra, it shines a big spotlight on the damage of parental expectations when they are so at odds with what the child/ young adult wants, especially when it goes so against their conscience. I think your character should be proud of what the experience taught him about himself.
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Hi Siobhan, thanks for reading and commenting.
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I loved your previous FF very much and now this one, superb. You write with such a feeling, it made my eyes moist.
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Thanks Indira. Sorry to be the bearer of sadness. 🙂
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Sadness is the part of life dear. No escaping there. Have a nice time. You all are looking so relaxed and happy in the photographs.
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That hunting thing between fathers and their sons has always baffled me.
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Hunting in general is an anathema to me. It takes all sorts.
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Isn’t it sad what we do for others when we don’t believe in ourselves. Thanks for being such wonderful hosts. It was absolutely a great day. What a vibrant pair you two are. – bw
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Thanks for reading Bill, and it was a pleasure to have you on board. Hope you’ve recovered from your taxing visit to Le Tour and the long drive on Tuesday.
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very much better, but not so vibrant as you two.
We are off to visit a village tomorrow where they refused to turn over Jews and soldiers over to the SS and were massacred for it.
The story in these little places is always the cycle between oppression and freedom, and the bravery that swings the pendulum.
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Lovely to see Friday Fictioneers together! I half expected the kid to shoot his father, knowing whose work I was reading, but you delivered a poignant story of a less gruesome sort. My only recommendation is to change your last line from “As I was weeping now,” to a more urgent, “As I weep even now.” (Basically switch out “was weeping” for plain old “weep,” with whatever you want to go around it). Aside from that, you portrayed a ton of emotion, history, and conflict in these 100 words… AND it was a ways out of your usual genre, which makes it that much more impressive! Excellent!
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Thank you! 🙂 Yes I had some second thoughts myself about that last line; it fit, in the context of the unedited and differently titled version, but should have re-visted it afterwards.
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Tragic 😦
Ellespeth
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Thanks Ellespeth. 🙂
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Dear Sandra, Great story and the poor Ram paid the price of vanity to the father. Great story and looks like you had fun with Janet and her husband. Have a good week! Nan 🙂
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Same to you Nan!
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A beautifully written and very moving story, Sandra. One of your best.
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Thanks Karen!
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Very sad to have killed the creature. And sad that the father just doesn’t “get” his son.
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He wouldn’t be the first. Thanks for dropping by Patrick.
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So many emotions packed into this brief text. Lovely!
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Thank you!
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As a hunter, I have had this unfortunate incident to happen on more that one occasion. It can be quite heartbreaking. I believe it’s important to show respect for the animals we harvest for food. Trophy hunting, on the other hand, is another matter.
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It’s a sad business altogether, but all the more so when there is no point other than aggrandisement. Thanks for dropping by Russell.
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Very powerful story! You really make the reader feel for him here.
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Thank you Riya!
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Great story. It shows how someone in an honored position may not always be glad to be there. Sadness and joy can be intermingled. I enjoyed.
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A hollow victory, I believe. Thanks for reading.
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Oftentimes, rites of passage can be senseless…as in the killing of animals…not for sustenance but for sport. Loved your telling of a human absurdity…
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Thank you. And I very much enjoyed your story this week.
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This story is very powerful. Well written and emotionally moving.
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Thank you Mike. 🙂
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Its very difficult to wipe-out the memory of that first dying gaze – especially since they don’t accuse!
… and by the way I am quite jealous about you and Janet for being able to meetup 🙂
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I’m sure it must be. And yet, it was lovely to meet a fellow Fictioneer – I look forward to meeting others.
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What a sad story. I can imagine the anguish he feels, made worse by the way his dad and others are now treating him.
I particularly liked the ending “without accusation”.
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Yes, it must be doubly galling to do something that goes so much against your beliefs and then to find yourself venerated because of it. Thanks for reading.
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Sandra, I really like the first-person approach here, and the irony of his situation. I’ve never understood hunting, though I know many people who do. I think you’ve captured how I see it, the moment when you see the animal you’ve killed. Great job!
It would have been so much fun if we had all been in the same region, for a meet and greet! Looks like you had a great time, and then there are 2 more Fictioneers I’d really like to meet at that table! 😉
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Yes, it was lovely to meet them both in person. I envied you your visit with Bjorn.
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I envied my visit with Björn! 😉 But I’d love to meet Janet too… So many Fictioneers, so little time!
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Upon reading a 2nd time– yes, I do that often– I am thinking that the last sentence should be in the present tense, as the narrator is speaking. I wept… as I am weeping now. Just a thought.
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Yes, Lisa (Waiting for a Name) made the same point above, with which I concurred. As I do now. See my explanation. 🙂 Thanks for visiting, reading twice and commenting twice.
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Oops. Sorry, I don’t always read all the comments. Reading twice, should maybe include that too. 😉
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There aren’t enough hours in the day to get round all the entries these days, let alone the comments too. Have a nice ‘rest of the weekend’.
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😀 You as well, Sandra. I so enjoy reading the posts… the comments are icing, when I can get to them. But, I’m dieting for now. One of these days, I hope to meet and greet and laugh about all the fun. 😉
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Great take on the prompt!
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This is a wonderful story, Sandra. I’m not a hunter myself and can’t imagine myself going hunting so I could really identify with the thought and emotion behind the story. And it’s really cool that you met another Fictioneer. That would be cool.
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I know that scenario well.
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Bravo for this! The eyes are truly the mirrors of the soul. I don’t get hunting. Never did. Never will.
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Such a complex piece, Sandra. I imagine I would feel this way if I were to ever shoot at an animal. Wonderfully written! That’s so exciting you got meet Janet and Bill. This is what life is all about.
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The line about the animal looking at him with those ambers eyes pulls at the heart strings – it’s the ‘without accusation’ that gets me, I think. A pity your protagonist couldn’t manipulate his father into taking home the trophy.
(And thanks for the photos of you all together.)
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a proud moment for the father as the child endured the traumatic situation . . . your well written story captured the emotions so well it was as if i heard the poor child weep. thanks for sharing your lovely moment with some FF friends . . . way cool! 🙂
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