He should’ve gotten on the train.

He could’ve been in the countryside with his sister.

But he didn’t want to leave Mother in the city. Not with the air raids and bombs falling.

Then he had gotten lost trying to get home from the station. The old lady found him and took him to her house, gave him soup and a bed.

In the morning she promised to take him back to his home.

The old lady was probably dead now, buried under the rubble of her house, just like him.

Through the small gap between the masonry that held him captive he could see the sun rising. He tried to call out. The crushing weight on his chest strangled his cries.

With his free hand he put his fingers round the emerging orb, like he was holding it.

Hold on to the light, he thought. His eyes closed. As he drifted away he heard a faint shout.

‘Over here. Bring a stretcher.’

I’m coming, Mum. I just have to hold on to the light.

photo-20180129154606147
Copyright Goroyboy

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 – 175 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

51 thoughts on “HOLD ON TO THE LIGHT”

  7. Tugged at the heart strings till the end. Iain, for some reason, whether intentional or not,that simple bowl of soup spoke volumes of a time where food was not abundant but what they had was shared. Well done.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. It can be read a few different ways James. I have left it open as to the fate of his Mum, she could be sitting at home completely unharmed and unaware of what has happened to her boy, which was how I envisioned it. But I’m happy for readers to take from it what they will.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  15. I think this is my favorite of your stories so far. It’s got everything in it. Any chance this is related to the German Blitz attack on Coventry? Either way, I love the way he held on to life by grasping the light. That’s just beautiful. Standing ovation for you!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. I was thinking of the Blitz, although in my head I pictured London, but Coventry went through much the same. Thanks for the high praise – I fear the only way is down with my next effort! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. Yikes! How did I goof on that? Apologies!!! And thank you. Your name, all in lower case letters, reads Lain. So, are you Lain or Iain? Better late than never. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      3. I think it’s because of how it looks on your blog photo. Different than an I that is typewritten. Well, this American is happy to be corrected. Thank you, Iain. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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