Copyright Anshu
We stare at each other across the years of mutually-unfulfilled expectations.
“I have to go back to London tomorrow, Dad.”
He doesn’t respond, momentarily distracted by a pretty nurse scurrying past.
“Is there anything you need before I leave? Anything at all?”
He presses his shiny knuckles thoughtfully to his mouth, before leaning towards me in conspiratorial fashion.
Grasping his outstretched hand, I’m conscious that this may be the defining moment of our lengthy antagonistic history.
“You couldn’t give these a rinse for me, could you?”
Seething, but clutching his dentures in my hand, I hurry towards the bathroom.
If you’re wondering how I got here, well I saw those wooden piano keys and they reminded me of wooden teeth which, though it hardly bears thinking about, were the precursor of the modern denture. Flashing a perfect smile, as ever, Rochelle leads the Friday Fictioneers out once again.
castelsarrasin 
It is interesting how an image sparks a series of thoughts, and reaches somewhere.
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It is indeed.
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Sad but familiar (and I guess so for many)
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Very sad. Thanks for reading.
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That brought a wry smile. But where’s the creepy? There are no axe murderers in this. Who are you and what have you done with the real Sandra?
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When I’m not doing mayhem, I’m usually doing dysfunctional, Neil. Good to see you’re back on the scene.
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Thanks, Sandra. It’s good to be back. I was 10 time zones away researching a book
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Excuses, excuses… 😉
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The decrepit piano echoing the loss of memory – sad and poignant!
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Thanks, Jennifer.
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Dear Sandra,
He’s already gone, I’m afraid. That cavalier and unfeeling remark having been said, I think your story encapsulates two lives sadly and succinctly.
I hope winter is treating you well. Spring is on the horizon and I’m on the figurative loch wall, watching as you journey. Pleasant trip, my friend, pleasant trip.
Sincerely,
Doug
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How lovely to see you on here again, Doug. Thanks for dropping by. I’m told you’re very happy in your new life. I’m glad about that. More than glad, really.
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Very clever take, Sandra.
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Thank you, Violet.
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Dear Sandra,
The opening line tears at my heart, hoping there’s resolution. The end took me by surprise. Nope, the old man deserves to be left alone. Ugh. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Yes, I thought that would appeal to your sensibilities. Or do I mean sensitivities? Thanks for reading, Rochelle.
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Dad doesn’t appear to view their meeting with the same sense of gravitas as his son, which I guess shows their differing views on life and their relationship. But it did give me a chuckle.
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This anecdote has its roots in one of my final encounters with my grandmother. That took some dealing with, I can tell you. 🙂
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Not the ending I was expecting, but it was absolutely perfect. Sad.
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Thank you Keith. 🙂
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I caught the connection right away. Just hope the dentures were in better shape than those old piano keys 🙂
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Hopefully they were.:) Thanks for reading.
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Lovely – and rather sad – little snapshot on dysfunctional relationships – and thanks for the explanation – I certainly didn’t see the connection. 🙂
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
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Glad you liked it, Susan.
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A sad part of life we don’t want to hear about. Great writing.
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Thanks for reading. 🙂
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Fabulously done, as per usual, Sandra!
Such a sad relationship and I love how you got to the dentures via the piano!
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Thanks Dale. Good job I gave an explanation, I think. 🙂
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LOL! I think we would have figured it out 😉
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I am squirming, and laughing, uncomfortably amused.
You just keep producing these 100-word gems.
I have no hats left.
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Thanks for reading CE. Sounds like it got the result I was hoping for. And thanks for your kind words. 🙂
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Eugh! And if you were rich you could have implanted into your mouth the teeth of poor people who’d sold theirs – that’s worse than wooden ones, in my opinion.
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Appalling thought. Both of them really.
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Also the teeth of people killed on the battlefield – double euch!
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You had me at “mutually-unfulfilled expectations.” I’m practically clenching my teeth on behalf of your seething protagonist.
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🙂 thanks for reading. It’s been good to see you back on here.
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I guess their time has (not) been and gone.
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I think so. 🙂
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Ha! Well done! And I do love the stream of associations that led to this little story. This is what makes FF so much fun!
🙂
Na’ama
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Thanks for reading.
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I knew where this was going already from the title… and love how you turned the end to something more amusing than the heart wrenching sorrow of Dylan Thomas.
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I set out not to let it get heavy – I hoped it would work.
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Urgh!
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Wonderfully written as always – a sad reality too.
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Thanks for reading, Anna.
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i love your wry sense of humor. 🙂
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Thanks for reading.
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The old guy seems to be getting one over for the last time, seeming slightly callous and disinterested with his son’s departure. A really good take, loved it.
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Thank you!
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Gag! (lol)
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Ha ha ha, and ewwww, though I know there’s an element of sadness to the story 🙂
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A dual purpose story. 🙂
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That made me laugh and grind my teeth at the same time because it feels so true. You can have that kind of selfish behaviour from sweet and loving people too, when they slowly go. Smiling sweetly and pressing something gross into your hand, yeah…
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Yeah, my gran did this. 😦
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Ha! Disappointed to the end. What a lost opportunity to mend fences. Love shiny knuckles.
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The whole relationship sounds like a lost opportunity. Thanks for reading.
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Did he ask you to rinse his dentures to spite you or to form a bond with you, one final time?
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I suspect simply because he thought he’d feel more comfortable. 🙂
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Wooden dentures, now that takes me back, fabulous use of the prompt Sandra…
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Hard to imagine. Even harder to eat, I should think.
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I think just maybe, I would have gotten a nurse for that job. Just saying… Great read!
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You’d hope so. But there’s no accounting for the way some people behave. 🙂
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Well that was not fun, but glad he did it and gave a new direction to the relationship
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Yes, I think it may be drawing to a close. Thanks for reading.
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So much emotion and tension in so few words.
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Thanks for reading.
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I don’t know but I find this sweet. Great job!
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Aww, that’s nice. 🙂
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Oh, Sandra, this is another terrific story! The plot encapsulates a dysfunctional relationship spanning a lifetime, and shows how it must have played out again and again and again. You set the scene with such superb economy – the pretty nurse says everything needed about where they are. One fascinating thing. You don’t gender the offspring, and yet they come across quite strongly as male. Is it the antagonism, I wonder? Or am I mis-reading?
Lovely work. Kudos!
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Yes, I notice someone else thought it was a man. That always surprises me when that happens. When I occasionally create a male narrator I’m always apprehensive that it won’t work.
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I’m sure ‘seething’ underplays what your narrator was going through. I was expectinga gentler parting.
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I had endless trouble trying to find the right word. It’s inadequate, but whilst I could have done it with more words, there seemed to be no one word for the task. Thanks for reading.
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Eww, but at the same time, funny. Love how you got to the story. You just never know….
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The path can sometimes be tangential, to say the least. 🙂
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She was reaching out and all he gave her was his teeth to rinse? No hope for the man. Perhaps he just can’t cope with emotions, with talking, would rather bluster along pretending everything’s okay than face the problems he has with his daughter. So well written Sandra
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I think he’s probably moved on beyond thinking about relationships. I guess that happens in the end.
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Very true. Sad, but so many relationship problem go unresolved – these things can’t be forced especially if one part is unwilling or unable to do anything about it. We have to move on, whatever happens. Wonderfully written Sandra
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This is a creative view of this photo prompt. Great job!
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Thanks, Jo. 🙂
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Didn’t expect that. That’s one old piano. Just think of the splinters from wooden teeth.
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Ouch! Thanks for reading, Shirley.
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Thanks for the explanation. I didn’t see any connection until then.
The story told so much, as always, of their “relationship.” Poor kid.
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Thanks for reading Stu.
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So much said in so few words! Loved your take on the prompt!
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Thank you, Esha.
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Wonderful, Sandra. You have such a gift for coming up with left of centre story ideas. I love this one.
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Thanks Margaret, glad you liked it. 🙂
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An interesting snapshot of a parent/child relationship.
On a side note–My grandchildren are fascinated by my partial (four upper teeth). They love for me to take it out and grin for them, but dart away if I suggest they touch it.
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Hah! Now I can just imagine that. Does it involve a tongue waggle as well?
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So sad and believable. They are certainly not on the same page.
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Most certainly not. Thanks for reading.
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This was so very subtly heartbreaking. Great writing, I could really see those “shiny knuckles.”
-Rachel
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The years of ‘mutually-unfulfilled expectations’ continues. He is who he is till the end.
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Very beautiful and sadly sad this was. A vision of aging that is all too true.
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Very sad. Great writing.
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