Tremor
The coyotes behind my house yammer like gossiping schoolgirls. Sparrows zip from tree to tree, sixteenth notes on a staff. Our neighbor's cat stalks unseen prey in the great green expanse of their lawn. Even our own dogs race through the house, sniffing and searching, as if sensing buried treasure.
"What's up with the dogs?" I say to my wife, trying to sound casual.
"Don't know," she says, rifling through her briefcase. "They've been going nuts all day."
"Earthquake?"
I ask because she's the animal person, not me. She understands animal behavior.
"Hope not," she says, uncapping a pen. "Last one scared me to death."
That was six months ago. We both ended up in the same doorjamb. It was the last time I touched her.
"Can we get this over with?" she says, handing me the pen. "I have to pick up Bree and be at the orthodontist at four."
"Sure." I try to be agreeable, though it's hard.
"Cable people come tomorrow," I tell her, stalling. "Phone'll be in on Friday." My new place is small, but not awful.
She gives me a look, so I sign and it's done. Fifteen years erased in a pen stroke.
Without warning, my mind ignites with images of everything that man must have done to my wife in the past few months.
A coyote howls in the distance and I wonder when the world will both start, and stop, shaking.
"What's up with the dogs?" I say to my wife, trying to sound casual.
"Don't know," she says, rifling through her briefcase. "They've been going nuts all day."
"Earthquake?"
I ask because she's the animal person, not me. She understands animal behavior.
"Hope not," she says, uncapping a pen. "Last one scared me to death."
That was six months ago. We both ended up in the same doorjamb. It was the last time I touched her.
"Can we get this over with?" she says, handing me the pen. "I have to pick up Bree and be at the orthodontist at four."
"Sure." I try to be agreeable, though it's hard.
"Cable people come tomorrow," I tell her, stalling. "Phone'll be in on Friday." My new place is small, but not awful.
She gives me a look, so I sign and it's done. Fifteen years erased in a pen stroke.
Without warning, my mind ignites with images of everything that man must have done to my wife in the past few months.
A coyote howls in the distance and I wonder when the world will both start, and stop, shaking.
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Author's Note
This story should show up on 52/250 A Year of Flash, Friday 1/21/11. The theme was "Animal Behavior."
My appreciation to the editors there.
Feedback is still welcome, however.
Other stories by Dan Tricarico
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I liked the timed detonations of revelation in this as the story gathers force from the explosion of each small, significant gesture like "..uncapping a pen." and edning up " in the same doorjamb...the last time I touched her." And then the big one, the tremor of the world itself, possibly permanent.
Flat out brilliant. Lots & lots packed in and not a word wasted. Very, very fine writing.
Thank you so much, David and Jack. Your positive words mean a great deal to me. I'm not nearly as prolific as other 'Nauters, so it's nice to get the feedback.
Eloquent writing, Dan. The last line is just right.
Excellent flash! Especially admire your tight control of the story’s emotional build-up. *.
Wow - what a great piece. Amazing, concise writing that gets to the point yet is so very effecttive and emotional. *
This is strong! The doorjamb really got to me. The end part was unexpected. Very good story, no wasted words, cuts deep
*
Tina, Frank, Jules, and Susan: thank you so much for taking time to read and comment. Tight control, concise writing, and no wasted words--what writer wouldn't want to hear that? I'm humbled.
I left out Tina's "eloquent writing." High praise, indeed!
Excellent story.
"She understands animal behavior."
That line has tremendous force in this context.
Suggestions:
Take out "though it's hard."
"my mind ignites with images"
Can you find a verb that relates more to earthquakes?
Great last sentence. Don't think you need the commas there though.
*
This is a fantastic flash, Dan. One of my faves of yours, for sure! I like Bill Yarrow's suggestions (he always catches some great ones) and think you ought to submit it elsewhere also!
A fave.
Bill, I will incorporate your excellent suggestions before taking Robert's suggestion to submit it elsewhere. Thank you both so much for reading and commenting. I appreciate the feedback. And I agree with Robert, your feedback is always spot on. Thanks.
Strong stuff. Like little bombs going off in a minefield. The coyotes add great foreboding and framing. Such a taut, tense flash. Peace *
Linda, Thank you so much for reading and commenting. Given your talent, your praise on my work means a lot to me.
Dan. This is one of those stories that made me say, "Wow" after reading that last line. Great piece. Compact and dense with subtext. Dialogue is short and realistic. Thank you!