SPF: An Entangled Mess


An Entangled Mess

Word 201

I took a deep breath and rang the bell.

There was no answer.

I let myself in. “Mom?”


My heart thudded.



I shrieked while Mom laughed hysterically.

“You almost killed me!” I grumbled helping her sit.

She giggled. “It was fun!”

My eye fell on the table. “You didn’t have lunch?”

Pushing me away she stood up.

“What’s wrong Mom?”

“Do you think your Daddy’s having an affair?” She burst out.


“I wouldn’t mind! He’s never home.” She fussed. “Will you talk to him?”

“I will.” I choked. “I’m going to make poha*.”

“No! You make terrible poha.”

“You remember!” I was pleased.

“I never forget anything.” She suddenly winced and clutched her belly.

The next instant wonder flooded her face. “My water broke.”

I stared at the pool on the floor. “Mom!”

“Mom?” She frowned. “But you aren’t born yet!”

“Mom please,” I bit back a sob.

“My baby’s going to call me Ma,” She sniffed. “I’m going to the hospital. Go call Daddy.”


Her face crumpled. “But…you aren’t born yet. And…and your Daddy…”

“Shh Ma. It’s okay Ma.” I rocked her like a baby, relieved that Dad wasn’t around to see her like this.


*Poha: An Indian snack with beaten rice.

A/N. The connection of the flash to the photo is probably obscure. The chopped chunks, garbage trolley, the clear paths, thick foliage somehow reminded me of the complexities of the human brain and its neuronal pathways. I find it terribly fascinating how we hoard so much garbage in our thoughts, some things crystal clear yet others are pushed away, denied or simply re-interpreted. Does that make sense? What about the story? Did it strike a chord? Do let me know either way. Thanks for reading.

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Alistair Forbes for the challenge and Dawn Miller for the beautiful photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

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Email me at mysilverstreaks@gmail.com or tweet me @mysilverstreaks

20 thoughts on “SPF: An Entangled Mess”

  1. Interesting tale. I’m not sure if she is out of it and having a different baby or if she is out of it from the beginning and imagining her baby, the narrator, when he’s older. I think the narrator is real and the mum is delusional and needs help if her water broke. The dad doesn’t seem to good. Great write.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. So sad. How she remembered the past and feels what happened but is confused . What am I writing? I think I am going senile.
    Good morning Dahlia. It is hot and hazy ( pollution) in Navsari. Perhaps it is trying to compete with Delhi. Have a good day.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I really like the way you saw the clearing as a disjointed brain. When one has seen some types of dementia at work, it is easy to understand your story. . . I do not like the term senility, for often in the elderly there are other health problems which are not being dealt with. It seems to me here in England that our society has started to fail individuals who are not able to cope with the difficulties of being old and frail.

    Liked by 1 person

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