Distorted Lies

Author Jenna Eatough's Flash Fiction Story from writing prompt: I'm working on a farm

Wednesday has come around again, and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.

Gravel ground beneath Aharon’s shoes as he walked the short path to the isolated homestead and his imminent reunion. The break shortened further when the door creaked open abruptly.

Whipping her hands on her apron, the grayed woman stepped from the house and cast an appraising eye over Aharon. A gaze which evaluated him in moments. As only his mother could.

Turning, she called into the house. “Aharon’s home.”

Before his father and brother emerged, his mother marched down the steps, stopped in front of him, and stared pointedly at his bag he still held like a shield in front of him.

Aharon dropped the bag and gathered his mother into a hug. He held her stiffly, gauging what he could read from her. She didn’t hesitate though and held him tight. Aharon relaxed.

Releasing him abruptly, she tweaked his ear. “You’ve been gone too long, Aharon,” she scolded. “Too thin too. Aren’t you eating?”

“As I can,” Aharon said looking beyond his mother. His father stood in the doorway.

“Heh,” his dad scoffed. “And what job keeps you so busy you ain’t eating.”

“I’m… working on a farm.” True enough.

His father shook his head. “Could have stay’d here if you wanted that.” Turning, he gestured for Aharon to follow him inside.

At the base of the steps, Aharon hesitated. The building waived into long distorted streaks.

No, not perfect yet. “I wish I could have stay.” Aharon stepped inside, wondering what other cracks revealed the lie he’d developed.

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