Copyright Sarah Potter
Fingers of mist drift low in the valley, ensnaring trees and bushes in a gentle, transitory embrace.
Ailsa hurries forward, biting her lip as the sharp frost eats into her fingers, drumming relentlessly into her arthritic knuckles.
The barn is empty, the wood-shed locked. He surely can’t have gone far?
Panic rises, like bile in her throat. She’d better phone for help.
Again.
Back at the farmhouse, Joe hunches over the kitchen table, jaws manipulating a chunk of soda-bread, sausages sizzling on the hob.
“Anything wrong, love?”
She folds into the chair opposite.
“Everything’s fine, dear. Just stretching my legs.”
A lovely morning here today, brilliant sunshine, contrails criss-crossing clear blue skies, and the builders back at work in the mud-bath outside our kitchen door, with no reason to expect an early finish… yay! Thanks to Rochelle, the first lady of Friday Fictioneers for all her hard work.
castelsarrasin 
Beautiful and atmospheric writing, Sandra
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Thanks, Neil.
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Powerful writing, Sandra. I wonder why life feels more frightening and less rational as we grow older?
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I wish I knew, Penny.
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Dear Sandra,
Heart breaking story. I can’t think of anything more frightful than losing someone that way.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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And trying not to let your fears show, as it happens. Thanks for reading, Rochelle.
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Wonder how Joe is related to Ailsa and why he was unable to help.
And now I wonder if my questions are valid.🙂
Wonderful writing, as always.
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Perhaps this doesn’t work then. Joe is the person Ailsa is searching for, as he habitually goes missing with the onset of dementia. She has to conceal her anxieties from him. Thanks for reading.
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It’s to do with my (in)ability as a reader, Sandra. Sorry. Thanks for your kind and considerate reply.
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Don’t put yourself down. I frequently write obscure stories. 😀
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Difficult to tell when he is having a good day and she can stop worrying. Emotional story Sandra.
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Thanks Iain.
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I think it works Sandra. You could feel the panic Ailsa’s panic. Dementia is a cruel affliction for the sufferer and the family.
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Thanks, Irene. It is indeed.
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Excellent evocative piece. I like the way it shows secrets and strain. Well done.
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Many thanks, glad you liked it.
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The word “again” clarified for me what was going on. Lovely writing, Sandra.
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Thanks Barbara. It is sooo good to see you back. 🙂
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I’m a bit confused, too. If Ailsa’s outside searching for Joe, who’s sitting at the table with him? Or was Ailsa briefly hallucinating? It might be clearer if you state her name instead of “She.”
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I thought when I said ‘back at the farmhouse’ the reader would realise that Ailsa had returned. Apparently not so. 😉
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Reading Iain’s comment: I see I had it wrong. I thought Ailsa was the confused and wandering one.
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This is beautifully written Sandra. I did wonder if this was dementia but actually thought it was Ailsa that was lost in confusion. I definitely read it as Ailsa returning to the table – I really sensed her relief as she folded into the chair. The odd tweak and your meaning would be clear and it’s beautiful once you understand. I loved the urgency and the underlying love.
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Thanks for reading and commenting, Anna. There’s scope, with more words, for the piece to be truly ambiguous. I might look at it for longer challenges.
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Great story… can read so much into this.
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Thanks, Jelli.
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I could feel for Alisa as I was reading and therein lies the story’s success. Good one, Sandra.
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Thank you Varad.
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Lovely story with vivid imagery. It left me wondering if it was in fact Ailsa who was the one suffering from dementia.
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
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A few people have thought that, and that might be an interesting turn to the story. Thanks for reading.
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That sense of panic – made me think of two movies: “On Golden Pond” and “Away From Her”. – both of which show the one spouse searching desperately for the other in total fear that they will not find them.
As usual, wonderfully done!
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I remember that scene from Golden Pond; heart-wrenching. I don’t know the other one. Thanks for reading, Dale.
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The other one is so bittersweet. A little Canadian movie worth looking for.
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So reall, that feeling of panic and of having to conceal how very worried she was so she doesn’t upset him. I confess, I wondered at first if it was her wandering, losing the house she should know, the kitchen that should be familiar. Sad and atmospheric story
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Thanks Lynn. The various takes on this story have given food for thought. Thanks for reading.
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My wife always feels the same way when she can’t reach my cell phone. I’m such a space-cadet about keeping it charged. I keep my phone with me continually just to save her from grey hairs. Loved the tension in this one.
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You sound like my husband. His favourite trick is to respond irritably “Yes, I’ve got my phone,” as he leaves the house, but then leaves it in his locker at work, or switched off. Thanks for reading.
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Enjoyable, bordered on horror/terror…I loved it.
Scott
Mine: https://kindredspirit23.wordpress.com/2018/01/10/welcome-to-my-parlor/
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Thank you, Scott.
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Welcome
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Who has lost the plot here, I wonder? Ailsa or Joe? Heartbreaking portrayal of dementia.
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A number of readers have wondered that, Liz. It might make an interesting twist, actually.
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I did read it as him, but reading the comments I now see how other readers saw it as the woman having dementia. How terrible if they both had dementia.
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I suppose that must happen. How devastating for the family, though. Thanks for reading.
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I wonder which of them was really lost. It’s difficult to tell as we age, who is leading whom?
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I think each of us takes the lead from time to time. That’s truly a partnership, I guess. Thanks for reading Tracey.
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I know T and I compliment each other’s deficits.
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Oh, I can feel her fear. My mother had Alzheimer’s and there was always fear she would roam off even when she was placed in a nursing home with an ankle alarm. She wore it because they found her roaming outside the home.
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How very sad. I have friends who have similar experiences, though we were lucky in our family. Thanks for reading, Susie.
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Great sense of dread, and of her having to hide it from him in the end. It worked out fine this time, but next time may be all too soon. Very evocative.
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Thanks for reading, Joy.
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Honestly, I too did not get the dementia part. I read it as a story about a woman who gets scared that her husband has gone missing, and then finds him calmly cooking in their kitchen. Worked without the illness for me too though 🙂
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With short pieces, you need to include clues, I think. So the word ‘again’ was the clue that this has happened before, leading the reader to assume (I hoped) that it was dementia, because if someone repeatedly went missing, that would be a probable cause. But I see that the piece was misleading to some. Thanks for reading and commenting.
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Superbly written. I could totally imagine this
Click Here to see what Mrs. Dash Says
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Thanks for reading.
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Very atmospheric. Ailsa must live in constant fear.
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She folds into the chair opposite. What a lovely line is this. I have always loved your writings, Sandra. Yes, this works and how! You’ve captured her panicky state of mind perfectly.
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You conveyed her panic really well. Superbly written as always.
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To lose our memory is the cruelest twist of all 😦 Great writing, Sandra!
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A thought-provoking piece. It had me thinking ‘what if…?’
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Well, there’s two in a row on the same theme I chose this week. Sandra, your writing always moves me to improve my own. You say so much in so few words.
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Dementia can be a difficult thing to handle for the care giver..nice story
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Wonderful scene-painting here, characterisation, and emotional tension. I hadn’t realised, until I read other people’s comments, that either of them had dementia. I just thought she was old and was suffering an anxiety attack/senile agitation because she couldn’t find him and thought he had hurt himself or died.
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My dad had dementia. Oh the things my poor mother went through.
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Wow this one was gripping! You captured the mood so well
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Your story just reminded me of an article I read about an elderly Canadian couple who died in the freezing weather. He didn’t return and she went to help him. 😦
Beautiful writing, Sandra. That first line sets an evocative mood.
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I could see it was dementia, but actually thought it was Alisa coming apart looking for Joe when he was home all the time… maybe it doesn’t matter, i think the mechanism would be the same, that sense of drifting apart.
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This story has such a clear “feeling” to it, I loved the writing!
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Such beautiful and cold opening images. Ailsa’s fear, the repeated searching for Joe, her weariness all come across so well. And Joe, sitting there without a care in the world. Carers of those with dementia have so much to worry about and you captured this so well.
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This one gets you in the heart.
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I figured Joe was a wanderer with dementia. My mother had Alzheimer’s but only wandered off once when we were in a mall and told her to wait for us on a bench on the inside. She’d always waited before but not that time. We found her slowly walking down the mall aisle. She loved to walk. Good writing, as usual, Sandra. —- Suzanne
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Atmospheric – felt engaged from the start- a powerful story line- poignant. Nice one.
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Excellent writing, dear.
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