Thread: Squashed (short story)

I was drawn to my bench earlier than usual today. It’s such a beautiful morning! My already quiet neighborhood is almost silent; blanketed in a hush so preciously soft that even the birds seem hesitant to sing. A few of the braver ones do and I am glad as I hear a tenuous twitter here and there.

I watered my Morning Glorys before I sat down, deliberately splashing the water over the bricks that make up our patio. The patio is so beautiful when the bricks are wet. The water seems to bring out the variegated shades of the earth they were made from; changing them from a sun bleached expanse of sameness to a palette of rich jewel tones of red, maroon, and shellfish pink. I would water down my patio every time I went to sit on my bench if I could get away with it. Doing so would make my husband frown, “a waste of water” he would say. So I resist. (At least most of the time.)

My husband followed me outside this day. And as I sit here I can hear the scrape, swish, scrape, swish of my hand trowel in dirt as he prepares the Oak Barrel planter I set aside just for him. He is going to plant Acorn Squash in it this year. It is a heavenly sound, a song of hope and promise. It stands in stark contrast to where we were just a few short weeks ago. I am so grateful for this new music on this new day.

He is a commercial truck driver. For the past few years he has been gone more than he has been home. His special planter has lain fallow all that time. A few weeks ago he arrived home unexpectedly. At the end of a sixteen hour day he had failed to turn in a piece of paperwork and was fired because of it. I know it was spring when it happened but for me, no matter the time of year, the day I get bad news always seems to be a bleak winter day. It was awful. We sat side by side, him sobbing from a pain so deep I was stunned. I was beyond tears and felt utterly helpless. “We’ll get through this.” I said. The bottom fell out of our world; we were launched into a free fall once again.

We sat together in silence for a little while longer. Then he grabbed the paper to look at the want ads and found an ad for a truck driver. He threw his shoulders back and went to the bathroom to shave. Clean and dressed in fresh clothes he picked up his resume and headed out the door to apply for the job. He was hired that afternoon. And this job means he will be home every night and every weekend. We were launched into a freefall, to land in a State of Grace.

I can hear the rattle of the plastic bag of Perfect Mix planting soil as he shakes it out of the bag into his planter. The hose is crackling and hissing as water from the faucet makes its way to the nozzle; he is giving his squash seeds their first drink. It’s good to have him home. I turn and look at my little Morning Glorys that have doubled in size overnight and I think about how much I love squash blossoms too. Their big, velvety, trumpet shaped blossoms of bright yellow-orange will be a beautiful compliment to the blues, purples, reds, and whites of my Morning Glorys. I am so excited just to think that in the Fall we will have Acorn Squash for a dessert to follow Summer’s main course of flowers. My Catalpa Tree is in full bloom and I admire its white blossoms. It has outdone itself this year; I have never seen its limbs so full. I am so grateful for this table that has been set before me; a feast for my eyes and my heart. And I am grateful too, for this place, my garden bench, where I can sit and rest and think and write but more importantly, give thanks.

In the first paragraph the word "neighborhood" repeats itself. I didn't do it and I did try to edit it out without success. Am I doing something wrong?

nerot

I enjoyed reading this short story. A concise, sweet excerpt of the lives we live in. However, there are a few sentences which I feel could be improved, or better placed. Such as, "My already quiet neighborhood is almost silent..." to me, this sentence is slightly awkward. Or, "It stands in stark contrast to where we were just a few short weeks ago. I am so grateful for this new music on this new day." Switching the sentences' placement would make for a better transition.

All in all, I suppose I'm somewhat nitpicking. While some structures could be fixed, this is well written and well done.

Nerot

Well I guess I got your age wrong - but how old is your son - that's the horse riding one?

Yes, again I found it a story of every day country folk - all about nothing - but very readable.

Not a bad story at all. It's short, quaint, and I can't help but share the character's appreciation for a quiet morning like that. There are a few minor mechanical errors (for example, it's spelled glorIES), but everyone I found was of minor consequence and easily fixed, and would likely all be caught in one more once-over.

The only complaint I would have about this story - and I admit this could be mainly because of my tastes - is how the drama feels very 'brief', for lack of a better word. There's a hint of it in the third paragraph, and it's quickly and easily resolved by the fifth. It's not bad, don't get me wrong. I just think it could have been expanded a bit more in order to give the story a little more impact.

(I'll send you a PM with a more in-depth example, in case you'd like one. If you're content to come up with your own, by all means. )

Overall, there's a little room for improvement, but in terms of setting a calming and heartwarming mood, and telling a short, simple and real story, this worked really well.

I really enjoyed this, every sentence. You have a talent for painting a word picture that is as delightful as the patio and flowers you describe. Since the job loss was a downer in such a lovely peaceful story of enjoyment, I am glad the drama of worry and loss are short. It's really just a vehicle to make a good life even better, as I see it, for without losing the first job, hubby never gets the better job where he can spend more time at home. Ending with gratitude as you get back to an even more delightful life is the perfect touch. It reads like a dream that I'd not want to wake from. Thank you for sharing this. I will look for more of your writing.