Sunday, April 22, 2007

Entry #11

Through a Clean Circle
by Kaye Gilbert

Logan pushed his fingers hard against his ears and fell to his knees. He closed his eyes and lifted his face skyward. He could still hear her scream. The same way he had heard her scream for the past eleven years, since the night she died in her bedroom giving birth to a stillborn baby, with four-year-old Logan as her only companion.

The scream died with the call of a crow. Logan removed his hands from his ears, rose to his feet, and started for home on the powdery dirt road.

“Dad, I’m home,” he called, as he stepped inside the dank house.

“In here, Logan,” came the nearly inaudible reply. “I…I’m resting a bit.”

He made his way toward his father in the darkness of the room, gently kicking the wine bottles from his path. Wind chimes, thought Logan, when they clinked together softly. He sat down on the edge of the couch and touched his father’s hand with his, and then kissed his hollow cheek. His father’s face was cold and sticky.

“I’m feelin’ good today, son,” his father slurred. He pulled a frayed afghan over his father’s chest.

“I’ll fix you something to eat now,” said Logan. “Borscht okay?”

A bit of light shone into the gloom of the kitchen, as Logan prepared the beets he had grown himself. Through a clean circle on the grimy window above the sink, he looked out upon a pale gibbous moon in a late afternoon sky.


Sam said...

Beautiful use of imagery and words. Haunting.

Unknown said...

There are beautiful words and description here; however, I get the impression that this is the opener for a much longer piece. I have many questions. How old is Logan now? Where is this story taking place? Why does he still here those screams? What's up with his father? Hope you let us know if you do make it a longer piece. ( :

Bernita said...

Interesting symbolism, perhaps a little too oblique?

Jaye Wells said...

Great imagery. I know the word count doesn't give much room to develop a story, but this left me with too many questions to feel complete. You definitely have a talent for description, though.

Suzan Abrams, email: said...

I loved the windchimes bit. In the darkness, it spoke of tenderness, gentleness & sentiment beyond all.

Scott said...

Many great qualities about this piece. I like the ending image of looking through the clean circle of the grimy window. I can relate.

Anonymous said...

Sam, Verilion, Bernita, Jaye, Suzanabrams, and Scott,

I appreciate your thoughtful input and good suggestions. Thanks for ALL your comments. :) KLG

Beth said...

The 250 word count is so limiting. This feels larger. I also liked the wine bottle wind chimes part.

The Wandering Author said...

Yes, this feels larger, but I loved the imagery; I hope the story is allowed to grow beyond these boundaries.

Anonymous said...

Second half has a nice sense of pace. I really felt the father's fatigue.

High marks for pacing.