Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
They began creating their finest work the day she was born.
Between them, they had all the child would ever need. A dash of creativity, a smidgen of courage, an infinitesimal feathering of fey, and a vibrant slash of joie-de-vivre.
She was a canvas on which they would, in time, replicate themselves. With broad strokes they would gift this child every nuance of their beliefs, thoughts, emotions. She would be their memorial, sailing majestically into a future that could not be theirs.
A drugs-dealer eventually obliterated their canvas.
But if truth were told, she’d proven difficult to love.
Close call this week – resigned to a no show through lack of inspiration, until I sat down mid morning with my coffee. Wishing all Friday Fictioneers, and our leader Rochelle, a very happy Wednesday.
castelsarrasin 
Beautifully written but somewhat nihilistic this week, Sandra.
The danger of trying to live vicariously.
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Possibly so. I’ve softened the ending a tad. 😉
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The price of hubris, well-captured
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Thanks, Neil.
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Dear Sandra,
Sometimes the muse is last minute, isn’t she? But show up she did. We really can’t create our children in our own images. I can relate to this times three. (Fortunately without the drug dealer. 😉 )
Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Yes, it used to be alternating feast and famine with the muse, but he/she seems to have gone on a permanent diet these days. 🙂 Thanks for reading.
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All their care and upbringing turned out this way…
Hope the canvas mends her ways and shows off the good art.
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Thanks for reading, Anita.
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Yes, it definitely puts more than a damper on things. All that time and energy and it all goes down. Good story, Sandra! Poetic and precise.
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Thanks for reading, Kent.
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I think all parents start with those high ideals before it descends into just making it through the day without a tantrum is a win. Fortunately not all attempts end as tragically as this one.
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🙂 I feel your pain.
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Beautifully written. “My fav line A drugs-dealer eventually obliterated their canvas.”
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Thanks for reading Tannille.
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Poignant ending!
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Thanks, Josh.
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Clever take. Nice!
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Thanks Tina.
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I’m so glad you sat down with your mid-morning coffee 🙂 This is a thought-provoking, warning tale. Reproducing ourselves in out children usually leads to disaster. Let them be who they are, not reproductions of yourself.
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I entirely agree, Linda. Thanks for reading
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Dark. Very dark, Sandra. Poor kid – just a project for her mum and dad. Expertly written, as always.
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Some projects just don’t succeed, I guess. Thanks for reading Penny.
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Your story shines with insight, Sandra. How the parents flip the script to cover their own butts is a story of too many 😦 Poor girl never had a chance.
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Many thanks, glad you liked it.
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You’re welcome.
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Beautifully written. Wow. I’ve changed my response twice now. This piece had me going in all sorts of directions. Brilliant, as per!
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Many thanks Dale. Glad you liked it.
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My heart sank for the child, the parents, the world….very heavy…well done.
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Thanks for reading.
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Perhaps they made her too much like themselves – not very easy to like. I admit I went “Awww” at the end. 😀
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You’ve a lovely warm heart, Oneta. 🙂
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I guess all parents start like this and most give up when they realise they can’t mould their child. Tragic story, well told!
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Thank you!
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Great story, Sandra.
The truth of life is there, layer upon layer. The entire human condition. So us. So real. More like this, please. Well done!
Bill
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Many thanks Bill. Glad you enjoyed it.
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Your coffee break found the right words in the end.
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Caffeine turns out to be a muse-provoker. I wish it were always so.
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what a tragedy. sometimes the world’s not fair.
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So true. Thanks for visiting.
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Glad you showed up. Enjoyed your story.
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Thanks Danny. 🙂
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This is an interesting concept for a story. I liked how you built it up and then crashed it down. Then the last line was an interesting addition.
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Thank you Ted. Glad you liked it.
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Poor kid. Expected to fulfill so many expectations of her parents. No wonder she proved difficult to love.
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Must be a nightmare, having parents like that. Thanks for reading, Alicia.
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Ouch.
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Ouch indeed. 🙂
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Perhaps too much attention and control turned her into a rebellious soul.
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Probably true. Thank you for reading.
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Dark story.. beautifully written 😊
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Savagely written. Modern day Pygmalion. I love the way you use such gorgeous language in the middle and then bam the end.
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Poor kid was suffocating under their narcissistic needs … No wonder …
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Wow! That was well thought out.
I didn’t see the parents as overbearing or narcissistic. I saw the lightness of it, at the beginning. The love in their dream of their child doing better than them. Like most generations of parents do … hope their children will have better lives.
Then the drugs stealing her away was sad. But then the put down that she’d been difficult anyway. That showed a lot, or covered a lot about the parents. Because everything is subjective.
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I’m so happy you sat down with a cup of coffee and were inspired to write your great story.
I enjoyed the unfolding of the parent’s thoughts. So often, no matter how much time, effort,
values, and morals are instilled in our children, they will go where they will go. It isn’t uncommon for this to happen. You gave it a gentle touch.
Isadora 😎
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A tragic ending – the dangers of trying to imprint yourself on your children.
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A wise man once told me, all we can do is hope they turn out normal, anything more than that is a bonus. Unfortunately there’s too many perils out there. The last line left me with a bit of a shiver. Good work Sandra.
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Very hopeful imageries until the drug dealer comes into the picture.
I like this nicely done story.
Though i would have hoped for a happy ending. But such is life 😊
Here’s mine:
https://natashamusing.com/2020/07/paint-my-love-fridayfictioneers-fridayfotofiction/
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The princess syndrome went unchecked. Brilliant as always Sandra.
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That’s every parent’s dream and nightmare rolled into one. Excellently captured and relayed.
I didn’t mean to steal your title.
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