The Fortieth Vacation

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
An elderly couple on a trip.

Submitted: May 11, 2019

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Submitted: May 11, 2019

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The Fortieth Vacation

He stood there in front of me, only inches from the edge of the cliff, looking into what could be oblivion.
‘You stay there.’ It sounded like an order. ‘It’s too dangerous for you,’ he added patronizingly.
Questions rushed into my head. Why should I always hang back a bit? Why can’t I ever decide what to do or where to stand myself? Why should everything be second rate for me? Why didn’t the edge crumble? Why didn’t I take control? Why not give him that gentle nudge? Why remain imprisoned?
‘It sure is a long way down there,’ he observed. ‘Impossible to survive if you go over that edge; really scary.’ There was pride in his voice.
My feet shuffled forward as if driven along by their own will. Then he turned around.
‘What’s the matter? Your face looks all funny.’ There was no gentleness in his voice.
‘Nothing. You know what it’s like.’
He sighed before he retorted: ‘You know you can’t stand heights.’ He sighed again and continued: ‘Lets go back to the B&B and relax a bit. It’ll do you good.’ Then he walked past me.
The moment had passed. Well, perhaps there would be another edge to go over ... another day.
 


© Copyright 2019 Bert Broomberg. All rights reserved.

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