Charli Mill’s prompt this week is
September 14, 2016 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about an amazing feat. What is the accomplishment and why is it amazing? Think small or go over-the-top large. Is it realistic or fantastically exaggerated? Go where the prompt leads.
Brought up in the 1960s, my family comprised a traditional, though not restrictive household. For instance the Archaeologist, being older than me, had a slightly later bedtime. As with a lot of petty rules that discriminated on grounds of age, it
pissed annoyed me slightly to the core of my being. So it was a big deal when mum agreed to allow both him and me to get up at the cold wee hours of July 21st 1969 to watch as Eagle, the lunar module landed on the moon. My gran, then in her 70s sat on the sofa watching the grainy black and white pictures with us, taking it all in.
It was mum who pointed out that gran remembered when it was announced the Wright Brothers had flown. Her life had encompassed man flying for the first time through to putting a man on the moon. Somehow, thinking about that brought home, more than anything else how far we as a species had come. A truly amazing feat, that one small step for man. Cheesy quote, though.
As for this week, the funeral of Paul’s old school contemporary is having wider ramifications.
From death, rebirth
Paul studied the hairy knuckles. He looked at the lined face: unmistakably Leon Patrick. How many years? 20? He felt the strong grip. ‘You good?’
Memories flooded back; that hand pulling him down, those knuckles swelling his lip. He nodded.
‘Probably too late to say sorry, Paul, but anyway. Sorry.’
Paul looked up. Genuine concern looked back. Anxious too.
‘Funny, you know, remembering what I did. That got me into anger management.’ Leon began to turn. ‘I’d better go.’
Paul stopped him. ‘Drink?’
An hour later they still talked. Amazing, they said, how Jerry’s death had brought some closure.