The creeping tenacity of memories

PHOTO PROMPT © Björn Rudberg


The boxes were filling up with old clothes, DVDs, CDs, books and even an old guitar. This was part of our plan to declutter. Detox. Create order out of chaos. Part of our marriage counselling ‘homework’. Create a space for love and togetherness to grow.

“Wait, not that one. Roy.” I took from his hands a green beenie, fingered the aged wool fondly.

“You haven’t used it in years, Katie. Chuck it!”

Ignoring him I placed it on the bed away from the boxes. Little did Roy know that it belonged to my late husband.

Screw cancer, I thought bitterly.

100 words


Just in case it is not widely known, “Beenie” is the term we use around here for woollen hats.

Thanks to Bjorn for the vivid photo for this week’s Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less. This has really helped me to grow as a writer making each word work for its place on the page (or screen.) I suggest you try it. And it is fun to get to know the other writers through their flash fiction.

Click here to read what other’s have written for this prompt and see the wide variety of perspectives a single image can inspire.


I have just celebrated one year on wordpress and I’m pleased that I got to spend all of it with you lot! It has been entertaining, fun and educational. Here’s to another year.






35 thoughts on “The creeping tenacity of memories

      1. In this story, yes, she should move on as it seems to be complicating her current marriage. However as fellow Fictioneers have pointed out, they have kept momentos from their own late husbands to no ill effect on their new relationships. Something which I think speaks of true love. Thank you, Anie.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I believe that former partners are always more or less a problem. It actually has a great deal to do with trust and understanding to tolerate these memories. But you are cpmpletely right, that it depends also on the situation!

        Liked by 1 person

  1. As a woman with a late husband, I think you should drop the “ex”… unless he died after they divorced!!
    And I totally understand why she would keep it; as should he – if he knew…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Dale. It was an editing error. Initially had ex-husband and then added “late” but forgot to remove the prefix. I’ve changed it now.
      And I’m sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing that with us.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh, yeah, I have a momento like that from my first husband… the key to his old Gremlin car. Hubby doesn’t know what it is and almost threw it out once. I screamed so loud the neighbors called the police. It was that bad. That year, for my birthday, Hubby got me a small cedar box… “For your key” he said. Gotta love that man! ❤ I really enjoyed your story. BTW, that key is hanging on our Memorial tree that we put up every year.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Your husband sounds like a good man who loves you very much 😊 his gesture was so kind and understanding and I like your tradition of having a memorial tree in tribute to those who passed on. In fact, your story makes for better flash fiction, methinks 😉

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Thanks, Fatima. The tree, we started in 2012 after my Mom passed. It’s a small, white, metal tree that sits in the middle of a little table. We have picture ornaments for our grandmothers and Mom, a collar for our beloved Hanniebitzer (kitty), and a little hat for our wee one Iosa born too soon.

        Liked by 2 people

      2. My mom passed away last year. At this point I can’t imagine losing anyone else. But such is life. So many stories and lives on one little tree. Good way of keeping them close. Thank you for sharing that with us 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  3. You’ve written that story really well, Fatima. Your words made me feel the way Katie handled that worn green beenie with love and almost with reverence. You left me hoping she could move on and commit wholeheartedly to her new marriage.

    Liked by 2 people

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