When The Last Flame is Blown
‘Is this Mum?’
‘Yes…she’s about five.’
My sons are sorting through my things. Kneeling, heads bowed, piles of photos dripping through their fingers.
‘Yes,’ I chuckle; ‘Me on my fourth Birthday! I was cross, your grandad had forgotten the candles.’
The boys nod and sigh.
The photo’s moved to the bottom of a pile, then absently shuffled like a deck of cards. We could play Poker or lay them face down like Tarots.
The shuffled pack is tossed into the binbag.
‘No!’ I shout.
They don’t hear me; I’m the silent sudden chill that breathes goosepimples down their spines.
About the author: Denny Jace has been writing since June 2019. She writes Flash Fiction and Short Stories and is building up to her first novel. She lives in Shropshire with her husband and two (grown up) children. Most of her days are spent reading her stories to Maude and Stanley, her two faithful dogs. She has previously been longlisted/shortlisted and runner up in Retreat West Micro Flash Fiction 2019. Follow Denny on Twitter: @dennyjace