Friday Fictioneers


The photo above is the photo prompt for my following story in participation of Friday Fictioneers.

My Father’s Shoes

I’ll never look at his boots the same again. And I’ll never remember my father the same either. He was a good man and he couldn’t be a better father. His friends would always say “like father, like son” whenever I helped at the lumberyard. Those words were comforting, but now they bring nothing but dread.

That night he came home furious, his breath stank and his speech slurred at every syllable. I watched from my room as my father became a savage beast, ravaging the house. All that was left of him in the morning were his torn boots.

Word Count: 100


22 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers

  1. Wow! A strong story here. Outward appearances can be so different… the angel on the sabbath and the devil the rest of the week. Great writing, and like Rochelle said, Welcome!


  2. Well done, Miguel, and welcome to Friday Fictioneers! I was interested in your comment that the dad left for his son’s well-being. I can see that would account for the son remaining unharmed when his father went on the rampage. As you say, that’s not a dad you’d want to take after.


  3. A lovely story!

    I love the sibilance in “speech slurred at every syllable” – it is fitting!

    The doubling of behaviour is well complemented by a doubling (and then separation of) father and son. This is enhanced by the control of writing (representative of the stability of the son) and the bestial behaviour of the father.


  4. Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, Miguel. What a great entry leaving us hanging like that…
    NO, I don’t imagine a son wanting to take after such a dad…


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