She sat on the kitchen floor, playing with her plastic horses. She saddled up a mustang and rode across the squares of green tile, through the Indian badlands, around train robbers, and cattle rustlers. She rode fast, bent low, stopping to rest in the forest of chair legs under the kitchen table.
“Most men wouldn’t be caught dead washing dishes,” her mother teased the man at the sink. He was tall, a dishtowel over his shoulder, a cigarette in his mouth.
He laughed. “Most men wouldn’t do a lot of things I do.”
Her mother giggled, kissing him. The man’s hands came out of the water and landed on her mother’s bottom.
“Now look what you’ve done,” her mother said, smiling.
He crushed the cigarette. “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes,” he said.
“Shhh,” her mother said, pointing.
The little girl jumped on her horse, dug in her heels, closed her eyes, and rode like the wind.
************************************
The Original Version:
Ride Like the Wind
She sat on the kitchen floor. A triangle of sunshine from the window spread across the linoleum making a paddock for her plastic horses. She lined them up side by side to feast on grain and hay. Her favorite was a brown mustang with a white mane and tale. She’d take him from the herd and ride across the squares of green tile, through the Indian badlands and around gangs of train robbers and cattle rustlers. She was brave and free, riding fast, bent low over her horse’s neck, the wind blowing her hair back from her face. They’d stop to rest only after reaching the forest of chair legs under the kitchen table. It was safe there. She had cover.
“I like watching you wash dishes,” her mother said to the man at the sink. The little girl peeked out from under the man’s shirt hanging on the back of the chair. He was tall, wearing his green work pants and a white undershirt. He had a dishtowel thrown over his shoulder, and a cigarette in his mouth. He was up to his elbows in soap bubbles. “Most men wouldn’t be caught dead washing dishes,” her mother teased.
The man laughed and talked around his cigarette. “Most men wouldn’t do a lot of things I do.”
Her mother giggled, stood on tip toe and kissed the man’s cheek. His hands came out of the water and landed on her bottom.
“Now look what you’ve done,” she fussed, twisting around to look behind her at the wet spots on her jeans. She wasn’t mad though, she was smiling.
The man pulled the cigarette from his mouth and crushed it out in the ashtray. “I think we need to get you out of those wet clothes,” he whispered.
Her mother shushed him and pointed at the child.
The little girl ducked behind the cover of the man’s shirt.
Her horse whinnied, ready to ride again. She jumped on his back, dug her heels into his flanks, closed her eyes, and rode like the wind.
Friday Fictioneers’ (http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/) is hosted every week by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. It’s a pretty awesome idea that goes like this: A weekly photograph is posted and the writer is challenged to create a 100-word story or poem inspired by the photo. Post your work on your blog and link it to the Friday Fictioneers’ post where comments and feedback are shared. Give it a shot! This week’s photograph is by Douglas McIlroy.
Tags: childhood fantasy, Friday Fictioneers', horse, m. dawn thacker, plastic horses, pretend play, Relationship, train robbers
March 20, 2013 at 11:51 pm |
Great read… sexy, yet completely innocent.
March 21, 2013 at 1:10 am |
thanks.
March 21, 2013 at 12:35 am |
This is good. I was right there, I could have been either the little girl or her mom (female perspective of course). I could visualize him as well. The sense of each of the three characters coming through loud and clear. Yes definitely very good! 🙂
March 21, 2013 at 12:38 am |
thank you Penny. I’ve been working on several of these “childhood” vignettes. glad it worked for you.
March 21, 2013 at 12:39 am |
I was ready to identify with the girl playing with the horses but thankfully you lost me on the last part. 🙂 Very good.
janet
March 21, 2013 at 1:07 am |
My intent was to have the reader identify with the child, so I’m thinking there may have been some loss in the deletion of words. Would you read the original and let me know? I’ve posted it under the shortened version. Thanks so much Janet.
March 21, 2013 at 1:12 am
I’m sorry. I didn’t write that clearly enough. I understood the story. I meant that although I played with horses and identified with that part of the story, I didn’t have the last part happen in my life. You don’t need to put the original in. Your story was perfectly clear and well-written. Apologies for the confusion
janet
March 21, 2013 at 1:13 am
No problem, thank you so much for reading and commenting Janet. I really appreciate your thoughts and input. –Margaret-Dawn
March 21, 2013 at 2:22 am |
I really liked this, t-w, the perfect mix of innuendo and innocence through the child’s fantasy. I wonder who the man is though – obviously not Daddy, she doesn’t even seem to know his name.
March 21, 2013 at 8:51 pm |
yeah, I wanted to show the fantasy taking her away from a situation uncomfortable for her. Thanks Jen for your feedback and for always reading.
March 21, 2013 at 8:29 am |
Reading both versions really underscores the fact that you can reduce a story down to the bare bones and still get the meaning across. For me the abbreviated version lost nothing, the atmosphere and tensions came across beautifully. The only thing I would say that three sentences beginning with the word ‘she’ in the first paragraph was slightly distracting. I stopped reading for a moment to consider whether you’d done that for effect, even before I read the second version, in which it’s not so noticeable. Thanks for exercising my brain over breakfast! 🙂
March 21, 2013 at 8:53 pm |
wonderful feedback Sandra. Thank you so much!
March 21, 2013 at 8:39 am |
Wow! I love this. I will say that I like the abbreviated version better because it is more urgent, more evocative and after I read the original version I realised that it lost absolutely nothing. In fact, from the longer version, I would remove the part where she hides behind the man’s shirt. She needs safety, and the girl doesn’t know the man. Hiding behind the chairs that are a forest in her head would make the piece more realistic and poignant. But Bravo for both versions. I really like!
March 21, 2013 at 8:54 pm |
many thanks for reading and for your feedback. I’m glad I posted both versions this week. The input from readers like you has been wonderful.
March 21, 2013 at 10:17 am |
the girl’s shyness, need for security and also absorption in her game..this was a good tale..
March 21, 2013 at 8:55 pm |
thank you very much.
March 21, 2013 at 11:10 am |
I am that little girl…lost with pen and paper. I liked both versions.
Thanks for your visit. My muse throws in those hidden gems. Just rounds ’em up and ropes ’em. 🙂
March 21, 2013 at 8:56 pm |
thanks so much, I appreciate your reading and that it struck a note with you.
March 21, 2013 at 12:51 pm |
Just referring him as “the man” really conveys the sense of strangeness in the situation for the little girl. It’s very touching and realistic how she immersed herself in her fantasy to avoid an uncomfortable reality.
March 21, 2013 at 8:57 pm |
that was exactly what I was trying to convey. Thanks David. I appreciate your feedback.
March 21, 2013 at 1:40 pm |
I love your style. Good read.
March 21, 2013 at 8:57 pm |
thanks so much.
March 21, 2013 at 3:26 pm |
Your reduced story lost nothing from the vision of your story. Nice writing.
March 21, 2013 at 8:58 pm |
thank you I appreciate your reading both of them and for your feedback.
March 21, 2013 at 3:34 pm |
I, too, prefer the shortened version–more tension. Good story.
March 21, 2013 at 8:59 pm |
thank you. I was worried it lost something other than the extra words. 🙂
March 21, 2013 at 5:56 pm |
This is beautiful. I prefer the short version – there is so much between the lines for the reader to discover. It just shows how more is often said by less.
March 21, 2013 at 9:00 pm |
thank you Claire. I always look forward to your comments and input.
March 21, 2013 at 10:22 pm |
I like the short version, too. Very nice.
March 21, 2013 at 11:47 pm |
thank you
March 21, 2013 at 10:23 pm |
Very nice Margaret-Dawn. You did a great job of distilling the longer version while keeping all the flavours. Nice writing. 🙂
March 21, 2013 at 11:48 pm |
thank you so much.
March 22, 2013 at 12:07 am |
Feel sorry for the girl. I get the impression that this new step-dad doesn’t measure up.
March 22, 2013 at 12:10 am |
thank you for reading and for your thoughts. I appreciate your input.
March 22, 2013 at 12:15 am |
Nice character development.
March 22, 2013 at 12:16 am |
thank you
March 22, 2013 at 1:05 am |
I am certain that, as kids, we missed a lot of “mentions” from adults to each other. We lived in our own world; what didn’t fit, we didn’t mess with.
Scott
Mine: http://kindredspirit23.wordpress.com/2013/03/21/friday-fictioneers-march-22-2013-genre-humorous/
March 22, 2013 at 4:34 am |
it felt earthy and real. I thought this was a strong post.
March 22, 2013 at 7:54 pm |
thank you Bill. That means a lot to me. –tw
March 22, 2013 at 9:54 am |
Dear Train Whistle
You painted a vivid picture with just a few words. Masterful job of setting the scene through the child’s eyes. The ending was perfect. Not to mention you did a lovely job of editing it. Bravo!
Shalom,
Rochelle
March 22, 2013 at 7:55 pm |
thank you Rochelle. I’m working really hard on these short vignettes seen through a child’s eyes. It’s very helpful to have others look at my process along the way. I appreciate your feedback. –tw
March 22, 2013 at 1:25 pm |
Too many times the child is not as clueless as we want to believe. Even the younger children are always listening and watching everything we adults do and say.
March 22, 2013 at 7:56 pm |
Amen Joe. Thank you.
March 22, 2013 at 1:47 pm |
Very well done. It sounds like there’s enough inappropriate hanky panky going on in that house to warrant the need for an imaginary world of escape. Poor kid.
Denmother
March 22, 2013 at 7:57 pm |
thank you for your kind words and insight Denmother.
March 22, 2013 at 2:44 pm |
Clever tale, well told.
March 22, 2013 at 7:57 pm |
thank you
March 22, 2013 at 3:02 pm |
HI Train Whistle – like the others, I think the short version is better – though I wonder what would happen if you reduced it down further to 100 words – I think you’d probably lose something there – which is of course the eternal quandry we all face each week. Great writing, gritty, realistic and sensitive. Fabulous 🙂
March 22, 2013 at 8:00 pm |
Many thanks. I too felt like the 100 words wouldn’t give me enough. I may try to reduce it some more, or put a call out to Rich, who I see will take on the challenge sometimes. I’m pretty happy with it the way it is though. I don’t want to lose the punch. I appreciate you reading all of the extra words too. 🙂
March 22, 2013 at 5:57 pm |
Both versions are good. The abbreviated one is superb. The picture is clear. I identified with the little girl, but all three characters are defined exquisitely through your narrative.
March 22, 2013 at 8:00 pm |
thanks so much.
March 22, 2013 at 7:34 pm |
Really nice writing. I enjoyed it. Good job!
March 22, 2013 at 8:01 pm |
Thank you Jackie.
March 22, 2013 at 8:13 pm |
What a sweet, sexy story. Loved it.
March 22, 2013 at 9:30 pm |
thank you for reading
March 22, 2013 at 8:59 pm |
Sounds to me like she needs her fantasy world as a protection against her life. You protrayed that well, and I liked the way you slipped between what was actually happening, and her vision of riding the horse herself.
March 22, 2013 at 9:31 pm |
thank you Anne. I appreciate your reading and your feedback more than you know.
March 22, 2013 at 9:30 pm |
The say the best thing a father can do for his children is love their mother. That’s what I got out of this story. Sure, it seems gross when you’re the kid, but at least you know they love each other.
March 22, 2013 at 9:33 pm |
thank you Russell.
March 23, 2013 at 12:01 am |
oh wow, great writing. really enjoyed reading both versions.. it was very vivid.. like a really saw the scenes play out in my head.. great story
March 23, 2013 at 12:14 am |
thank you kz, always look forward to your comments. –tw
March 23, 2013 at 2:48 am |
Very real and powerful – those childhood moments when you just want to disappear. It came through with eloquence.
March 23, 2013 at 12:30 pm |
thank you erin.
March 23, 2013 at 5:36 am |
Maybe I am a little simple but I didn’t find anything distracting about this story. That little kid could have been a boy or a girl and anyone could have identified with her. Coming from a household just like this expect my dad doesn’t smoke but he is the time of man who could do just about anything and never lose his masculinity in the eyes of a woman and most certainly my mom, I get it. I think you put the smoke in there to make him seem a little rough around the edges. The whole thing worked perfectly. My parents have been together over fifty years and a few weeks ago I overheard them having a conversation that just made me smile. This reminded me of them. Great job. That’s love the way it should be. LOVED IT!
Tom
March 23, 2013 at 12:33 pm |
thank you Tom. I appreciate your reading and feedback.
March 23, 2013 at 5:38 am |
Accept not expect….little word association going on in my head
March 23, 2013 at 6:37 am |
Dear TrainWhistle,
Ride Like the Wind was a couple of things: 1. Drop dead perfect. 2. Way outside of the box most people were thrashing around in. 3. Subtle, layered and nuanced. 4. Very well written. 4. Why I read flash fiction (for the gems). 5. Your best story to date. 6. Better in the version we first read (see Sandra Crook’s comments) 7. Fantastic.
The end.
Aloha,
Doug
March 23, 2013 at 12:35 pm |
oh Doug, I’m riding on this cloud nine all day. Thank you for your kind words and for a great picture prompt this week. –tw
March 23, 2013 at 1:07 pm |
Wonderful story telling. The story didn’t loose one bit by being cut down. The longer version had a certain love of language and poetic flow that must have been hard to cut away. I am glad you shared both.
March 23, 2013 at 1:20 pm |
thank you Bjorn. It helped me tremendously to post both stories this week so I could see that even when I cut, the story stays intact. A shout out to Janet, who unwittingly spurred me to post both versions.
March 23, 2013 at 5:27 pm |
of course it’s not perfectly the same, but it’s 100 words. also, i changed a few things like “mother” and “I” for the girl in order to help trim words. i know you didn’t originally write it first person, but it helps to cut down words.
______________________
Kitchen floor, saddling a toy mustang, I rode fast across green tile, Indian badlands, chasing trainrobbers, and cattlerustlers before resting in the chairleg forest under the kitchen table.
“Most men don’t washing dishes.” Mother teased the tall man, dishtowel over his shoulder, cigarette in his mouth.
He laughed. “There’s lots most men don’t do.”
Mother giggled, kissed. His hands left the water for Mother’s bottom.
“Look what you’ve done,” Mother smiled.
Crushing the cigarette. “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”
“Shhh,” Mother pointed.
I jumped back on my horse, dug heels, closed eyes, and rode like the wind.
March 23, 2013 at 7:59 pm |
Kudos to you Rich for making the 100 word mark. I don’t believe I could have done it. Funny though, the very first draft was first person, but a bit too close for me. Thanks for your take, and for your work on it.
March 23, 2013 at 8:00 pm
happy to help.
March 23, 2013 at 11:30 pm |
Really liked the imaginary world created by the little girl playing with her horses but the other world, the real one going on in front of her, was also skillfully written. Well done.
ron
March 23, 2013 at 11:50 pm |
thank you Ron, appreciate your reading and feedback.
March 24, 2013 at 12:44 am |
Sexy!
March 24, 2013 at 1:20 am |
thank you for reading.
March 24, 2013 at 3:03 am |
I enjoyed reading both, and seeing how you edited and ended up. I really got a Depression Era vibe… nice. talked around his cigarette… I liked that line, but not necessary… in the final version when you said he had a cig in his mouth, I could picture ashes in the soap… then crushing it out, because he had found a more urgent need. Really felt inside the little girl’s head.
March 24, 2013 at 1:07 pm |
many thanks Ted. It’s been very helpful to have both versions up to see how the process of cutting words affects the reader. I appreciate your time in reading both and leaving such a detailed comment. I’m glad the words resonated with you.
March 24, 2013 at 4:23 am |
excellent and i too enjoyed reading both versions. i like the mother’s concern yet not quite sure how the little girl is taking all of it in. “closed her eyes, and rode like the wind…” is she happy, disturbed, unconcerned…leaves the reader to wonder. fantastic.
March 24, 2013 at 1:11 pm |
thank you sunshine. great response. I like leaving a reader to make the determination on these shorts. I think in a longer version or in the grand scheme of all these vignettes linked, the reader would know for sure the child’s feelings. That’s my goal in the future anyway. Thank you for reading both and taking the time to share your thoughts.
March 25, 2013 at 2:31 am
it is a challenge with these short stories…you whipped it out great with both versions. ♥
March 24, 2013 at 4:29 am |
Holy Cow Train! You sure have a lot of fans! Nice to see your work getting the attention it deserves. I really like this beautifully affecting & compressed story. Stands alone, or would make a great hook for a longer piece.
March 24, 2013 at 1:14 pm |
thank you curly. Societyred steered me in the direction of the Friday Fictioneers’ who write a 100 word story each week after a photo prompt is posted. Great group of writers who share their efforts through Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ website/blog. Give it a look, and thank you for always coming by and reading the words I put down. hugs to you.
March 24, 2013 at 5:37 am |
I really enjoyed this.
March 24, 2013 at 1:15 pm |
thank you Catherine
March 24, 2013 at 3:25 pm |
Well written depiction of childhood imagination! You could have cut it down even further for the exercise of honing your story to 100 words. Even when you keep your first version – it is amazing what happens when you slice and dice it down to its centre – hard as it is, it’s a good lesson.
March 24, 2013 at 3:42 pm |
sure is. thanks so much for reading and for your feedback.
March 24, 2013 at 4:28 pm |
Intriguing. I am taken right there, especially with the little girl’s attention.
March 24, 2013 at 4:44 pm |
thank you for reading and for your feedback.
March 24, 2013 at 9:56 pm |
Near picture perfect remembrance of childhoods past and/or present. Would that everyone’s life and memories be like this! Super job with this one!
March 24, 2013 at 10:27 pm |
thank you Perry. I appreciate your comments and feedback.
March 26, 2013 at 4:27 pm |
I liked your final version the best. You conveyed with insight how a child might deal with trauma and in this conveyed that it IS a trauma to the child. The mother isn’t seeing what her daughter is suffering. I interpret from this that the child has seen quite a few of these men in her short life. Very skilfully crafted story. A good read.I hope the little girl isn’t called Marnie! 🙂
March 26, 2013 at 11:33 pm |
I so appreciate that you got what I was trying to convey. Thank you so much for letting me know that.
March 27, 2013 at 3:28 am |
Enjoyed both, but prefers the 1st one. The child may be quiet, but she listens and understands without really understanding… that something is not right. I’m sure, in her heart, she is already planning for the right time to flee, not on a horse, but on her two feet.
March 27, 2013 at 8:56 pm |
Thank you Lora. I appreciate your reading and your feedback. I’m glad the intent was clear to you even with the extra words deleted. I appreciate your feedback. –tw
April 8, 2013 at 4:14 pm |
TW,
This is just so damn good! I really love the way you paint with your words.
I have a lot of catching up to do!
Red
April 8, 2013 at 4:26 pm |
Thanks Red. I’ve been so busy lately, haven’t posted for a couple weeks. When things slow down here a bit, I’ll get back in the saddle. Thanks for dropping by and reading.
ps: loved the last post on your blog.