The Walk

Reads: 30  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


The hike was over. The funeral was, too. The air was cool with just a hint of moisture. It felt particularly good since she had no more tears to slowly leak down her face. The feel of the rock she sat on gave her a feeling of connection to the mountain. She was part of it. She had grown with it. And now it was holding her up while her loss crept up on her like with the shadows of the setting sun. She wasn’t ready to face it head on; she was still creeping around the edge, not quite looking at it, wary of coming upon it too suddenly.

The overwhelming rush of sympathy was now ebbing. Friends had paid their respects. Family had come to cocoon her and were now leaving one by one. The house would soon be hers alone again. She wondered if this was for better or worse. The thought made her hug the wrap more closely around herself.

She watched the first star of the evening slowly start to shine, the feeling of time moving on with steps that dragged and stumbled. Like her. The dusk pulled in, gathering around her, starting the cloak the gnarled trees and bushes that pushed their way out of the thin shallow soil on the hillside. She felt like one of those trees trying to push her roots deep but finding only rock beneath the thin top layer. The trees survived because they found the cracks in the rock and with great patience pushed their roots deep past those obstacles and dead ends. They survived because they didn’t give up. She would survive, too. She wouldn’t give up either. With one last lingering look she stood, turned and began the walk home.


Submitted: June 12, 2021

© Copyright 2021 R.M. Clark. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments

More Flash Fiction Writing Contests

Other Content by R.M. Clark

Writing Contest / Flash Fiction