A response to this week’s prompt from Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. My word count is 174. The prompt photo is below.
Today is the worst day of my life. It’s the day that my father, who raised me single-handedly, died. He was the greatest man in the world. After his death, I had nowhere to turn.
I went off the rails for a while, until I found the thing that helps to ground me. Now every year, on the worst day of my life, I visit his grave and lay flowers to thank him. It redeems me of my mistakes.
This time, I’m not alone. A man is stood in front of my father’s grave. He’s crying. I don’t know him, and for a while we’re both silent.
‘Did you know him?’ he asks me eventually.
‘Yes, he was my father.’
He turns to me, his dead eyes sparkling with new life. His bottom lip quivers like my father’s had when I announced my first pregnancy. Somehow, I know.
The worst day of my life is also the best day. Three years after my father died, I’m reunited with my mother’s side of the family.
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