At the cemetery, I look at my father in his dark suit and dark shoes and I see a drop of water on his cheek and I think it might be a tear. But then I think no, it’s only the rain. And then it rains and rains and rains.
Robert Hoekman Jr thinks you die when you stop wanting. He writes and writes and writes. He lives on a farm in Virginia and refuses to be put into a box. See more at rhjr.net.
No one cries but Grandma. She cries at the wake after, in the church basement next to the table with the sheet cake. I tell her hang in there, Grandma, because I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. Then I go into the bathroom and stand inside the stall.
Robert Hoekman Jr thinks you die when you stop wanting. He writes and writes and writes. He lives on a farm in Virginia and refuses to be put into a box. See more at rhjr.net.
When someone can’t show up, my uncle asks me to be a pall bearer. I carry Grandpa to the ground with five men I don’t know. Grandpa who used to snatch my nose with his thick mechanic fingers. Grandpa whose skin is like rubber. I carry him to the ground.
Robert Hoekman Jr thinks you die when you stop wanting. He writes and writes and writes. He lives on a farm in Virginia and refuses to be put into a box. See more at rhjr.net.
We take a plane to Des Moines. My uncles and cousins and my aunt are there and everyone wears suits and black dresses in the town where Grandpa was born, where the sidewalks are gray and crumbling, where the names on the headstones sound like mine. Like his. Like ours.
Robert Hoekman Jr thinks you die when you stop wanting. He writes and writes and writes. He lives on a farm in Virginia and refuses to be put into a box. See more at rhjr.net.
Your grandpa died, says the note my dad left for me. It was yesterday, and tomorrow, we’ll go there, to Iowa. But when I see him after he comes from work, he is not worn and lost like a son. He is gray and cool and still. Like a couch.
Robert Hoekman Jr thinks you die when you stop wanting. He writes and writes and writes. He lives on a farm in Virginia and refuses to be put into a box. See more at rhjr.net.
Scans proved the bump was no fantasy. Cancer is such a dirty word.
I became the shadow from my mother’s visions. You became the man I always knew you were.
Our wedding was just a month away, but we didn’t need a crystal ball to know I wouldn’t make it.
This is Guy’s twenty first 50-word story, and the final part of the fortune-teller’s daughter series.
This series is dedicated to one of Guy’s closest friends, Sean, who is currently battling cancer. You can read more about Sean’s story here.
Editor: See part 1, part 2, and part 3 of Guy’s ongoing story.
We were married within a month.
The first morning I woke with nausea, I felt rotten. The second: jubilation. Mere weeks had passed since we first made love, but I swore I could already feel a bump.
We laughed, kissed, hugged; fell asleep with bodies intertwined. Life was a dream.
Guy forgot to submit this story last month. This is his twentieth 50-word story.
Editor: See part 1 and part 2 of Guy’s ongoing story.
You fell in love with me at first sight. I loved you long before that.
We met at the corner shop: you were unshaven, hungover, your hair still wet from the shower.
I had rehearsed my opening lines, been planning my outfit for thirteen years.
You didn’t stand a chance.
Guy is still waiting for the fame and prosperity promised to him three years ago by a fortune cookie. This is his nineteenth 50-word story.
Today I’m starting a new series of stories, titled “The Letter Opener.” The series will follow Herbert Cralston, an office clerk who sets off on an innocuous errand only to have… things happen to him. No spoilers here! (Not a whole lot of preplanning, either.)
Unlike other Storylines on this site, the chapters will go up on sequential days. Part 1 of the story will be five or six 50-word “chapters” long and then I’ll take a break for some one-offs before continuing with Part 2, and so on.
I’d love to hear some comments as the story develops, and if you have any suggestions or opinions about the direction the story should be taking I’m definitely open to reader input!
Enjoy!