Sunday, March 20, 2016

Sunday Photo Fiction

Posted Sunday March 20

As children, we wondered what went on inside his shed. Grinding, sawing, the hiss of sandpaper on timber. The scent of pine and the heady smell of lacquer.

Every Christmas the children of the village received little painted wooden toys in their stockings. Santa made them we were toldWe didn't know they came from the old gentleman's shed.

The years passed and we had children of our own. The tradition of the toys was enjoyed by a whole new generation. He worked until the day he died. 

On the day of his funeral, several of us were invited to visit the mysterious shed. Everywhere, hammers chisels and screwdrivers. Pots of paint lined up like soldiers. A lathe, and saws of every shape and sizeIn the middle sat a coffin, intricately carved with smiling faces, cars and animals. Atop, a wreath of wooden flowers.

Later at the chapel, each of us took one of the toys he'd made for us all those years ago. We placed them on the lid of his coffin. I'm sure I heard distant sounds. Grinding, sawing, the hiss of sandpaper on timber. The scent of pine and the heady smell of lacquer.

(Word count 200)

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  1. oh this is magical :) I like it!

  2. This is a lovely tale that is almost like a fairytale :-) brilliantly told.

  3. Charming. I loved "the hiss of sandpaper on timber. The scent of pine and the heady smell of lacquer." Lovely descriptions.

  4. This was just lovely! Great tale! :)

  5. Awe nice story. What a great thing that man did for kids. A nice tribute to him,, them laying their old toys on his coffin.

  6. What an enchanting tale ... beautifully written! Bastet

  7. That gave me goosebumps. I really like the descriptiveness.

  8. Beautiful story, Keith. It's like a modern fairy story. Well written. :) --- Suzanne

  9. How beautifully you told this Keith.