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#AtoZchallenge #flashfiction: Clearly, it wasn’t going to happen

 

C for Clearly it wasn't going to happen

C for Clearly it wasn’t going to happen

   As part of the A to Z Challenge,  through the month of April I’ll be posting a story a day based on photographs by Joseph T. Richardson and prompts given to me by blog-friends.

   Writing prompt: Clearly, it wasn’t going to happen

Provided by: Anna Tan, friend, fellow writer, and one of the Magnificient Seven of #TeamDamyanti

———————

So many things could have gone wrong with my son.

He could have perished in the womb– not a human yet, just a lump of cells, busy multiplying, abruptly stopped and flushed out.

He could have died with his mother, not taking his first breath as she took her last.

He could have suffered a birth defect, brittle bones, perhaps, and died of a fracture one too many. He could have drowned while I bathed him and rushed midway to the kitchen to rescue dinner from burning, leaving him alone for three crucial minutes.

He could have been strangled in the chokehold of a friend at school, during the break, in rough horseplay. He could have died of heat exhaustion if I forgot him in the car an extra quarter of an hour while I tried to get hold of a stock of nappies on sale. A kidnapper could have nabbed him while I let his hand go for a moment at the fair as I paid for the toy gun he wanted. He could have fallen down a cliff when we went camping, hiking, slipped off a path while walking right behind me, when I wasn’t looking.

 But I had allowed none of those things. I paid attention like a good parent should, see. Not for a minute did I lose my focus in all those years, not for a moment.  There stood my son, a strapping teen, his muscles strained against the gaping mouth of a Great White at the amusement park.

 We had a glass of wine each, later, at lunch. I drank to give him company for his first drink, you understand, on his sixteenth birthday. First time in seventeen years I touched drink, pinky swear, and that was hours ago. I’d never broken the oath before. I felt fine as we drove, the breeze in my hair. We had seat-belts strapped in,  just the way I had shown him, tugged one extra time to make sure. My sedan kept to the left, going far below the speed limit. I hadn’t given in when he said, Come on, Dad, none of the boys get driven around by their dads. I did not lose my focus, not once.

Clearly, it wasn’t going to happen, and yet it did. That truck came speeding down at an intersection, out of nowhere.  I still didn’t lose my focus, no, not for a moment.

I did all the right things, that’s all I’m saying, you know?

I did all the right things, and yet all I’ve left of him is this photograph, prying open the jaws of death.

~~~~~

Are you taking part in the A to Z challenge? Do you read or write fiction? Ever write based on a prompt? Are you a parent? If you are, what did this story make you think about?

Damyanti Biswas

Damyanti Biswas is the author of You Beneath Your Skin and numerous short stories that have been published in magazines and anthologies in the US, the UK, and Asia. She has been shortlisted for Best Small Fictions and Bath Novel Awards and is co-editor of the Forge Literary Magazine. Her literary crime thriller series, the Blue Mumbai, is represented by Lucienne Diver from The Knight Agency. Both The Blue Bar and The Blue Monsoon were published in 2023.

I appreciate comments, and I always visit back. If you're having trouble commenting, let me know via the contact form, or tweet me up @damyantig !

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