Worn Down Smooth

While they divided up the spoils in the living room, acting like fucking ghouls, if you ask me, I went into his room, and found his rawhide slippers, placed neatly beside the bed.  I kicked off my shoes and slipped them on.

I lay down on his side of the bed, the springs groaning under me as they must have done under him, and imagined that instead of hearing them argue about who should get what furniture and what they should do with the house, I was listening to the quiet shuffle of his slippered feet walking down the hallway.

 

Prompt courtesy of the Friday Fictioneers. Read more stories here.

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14 thoughts on “Worn Down Smooth

  1. Dear Craig,

    You are a cut above the usual. This piece, Worn Down Smooth, reminded me of my grandfather and so moved me. Brilliant. (And I can’t say that word enough for this one.) There should be a big sign pointing to your story, saying, write like this. Well done.

    Aloha,

    Doug

  2. I’m not sure I can add anything to Rochelle and Doug’s comments – and they are far more eloquent than I. Subtle, tactile and emotive … great writing.

  3. Dear Craig, This is a scene that is played out in so many homes each week. “The stuff” left over and what and to do with it. Very, very well written! I’ve seen the slippers by the bed afterwards. This is so sad but you wrote about it beautifully! Nan :)

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