When All is Done; Nothing Left to Fight






PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Leandro had painted his last. He awaited his graduation like all the others; school, college, and marriages; his ultimate release. He lifted a buttock and farted. The adults gasped, the children giggled. “Father!” screamed Millie, the ruddiness of her embarrassment matching his amusement. He beamed, “It’s about as rebellious as this old body will allow me nowadays.”

“These people are here for you father, show some respect.

“They’re not coming with me, so take offence who wants.”

As though to a dear friend who understood, Leandro smiled at a clock ticking its unsympathetic toll, folded his arms and closed his eyes.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.


15 thoughts on “When All is Done; Nothing Left to Fight

  1. Oh I enjoyed reading that! It reminded me of someone very close to me who was slipping away. Up until that point she had never broken wind in front of anyone: not even her husband. I’ll never forget the look of mischief and delight on her face when she did it loudly and proudly in front of a roomful of people. Thank you for reminding me of a very fond memory! 🙂

    Susan A Eames at
    Travel, Fiction and Photos

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Leandro made a good death, I feel, and was in death as he had been in life. There’s no point trying to be an angel just before your passing, everyone knows who you’ve been all that time before. Great rendering of the daughter’s horror and grandchild’s amusement, which lifts this from being melancholy.


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