CAN YOU SEE?

Close your eyes.

What do you see?

Do you see me?

Us?

Snapshots. A picture in a frame.

Look closer.

Do you see our life? A life? Any sign of life?

Do those snapshots add up to anything? Does it mean anything?

I see you. You, with those dark brown eyes. You, with that pale skin. You, with that smile.

I see your story. Our story. Our life.

I see it all and I see nothing at all.

Emptiness. As you fade away.

Open my eyes. Where did you go?

A busy street. A shop window. Hustle and bustle.

And emptiness.

Blindness. I face it alone.

Copyright Roger Bultot

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

After a break from the Friday Fictioneers Fun, it’s great to be participating again, and to see, and read, so many familiar faces. I hope everyone is well and I hope to be back on a more regular basis in the months ahead. The summer wasn’t all rest and relaxation though, as I finished my next novel and am delighted to have signed a contract to publish it with The Book Guild Ltd. You can read more about ‘The Barra Boy’ HERE, and look out for publication in Summer 2022.

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visiHERE.

51 responses to “CAN YOU SEE?”

  1. Totally new for you Iain. I like it!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Di, certainly not my usual style. Glad you liked it.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, much appreciated.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Sad with longing to rekindle the old and sweet in the new.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, glad that cane across.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. An interesting new departure for you, Iain. Or, at least, one we haven’t seen here before

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Neil, much appreciated.

      Like

  4. There’s an abruptness to the words. A staccato rhythm, which paces this piece. It’s both sparse and ironically, rich, for the silences and feelings implied, pervading the spaces between the lines, words. And yet, it is highly relatable – a “typical” conversation, held/shared with another, absent or not — such is real life. But wow, the ending? That speaks volumes. And the closing line – fraught with philosophical and existential angst. Word sharp story Iain!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for such a considered reflection, much appreciated.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. my pleasure

        Liked by 1 person

  5. Hari OM
    …almost poetic in style. I too appreciated this piece! YAM xx

    Liked by 1 person

  6. This is so evocative Iain

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re welcome

        Liked by 1 person

  7. At the end there’s reality.
    Blindness. But, there’s imagination too.
    We see what our heart & mind sees.

    Like

    1. Nicely put Anita, thank you.

      Like

  8. It’s touching.. I can feel those emotions..

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Now I see you, now I don’t. An impassioned piece indeed Iain.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. That’s a wonderful piece, Iain. Hopes and dreams so often fade away into nothing. We have to deal with it and redefine what’s ‘our own’ life.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much 😊

      Liked by 1 person

  11. that’s so sad. to be alone in the world in utter darkness.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. A terrifying thought. Thank you.

      Liked by 1 person

  12. A very profound piece of writing, Iain.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re welcome 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  13. Intriguing story. Well played.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. It feels like the person is a medium who went into a trance. The shop certainly has a certain curiosity aspect to it.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I wasn’t thinking of a medium, but certainly they were lost in their own mind.

      Liked by 1 person

  15. Heart breaking. Fading away…

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Dear Iain,

    Poetic and tragic. You told an entire story in verse. The grief is tangible.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks so much Rochelle, grateful that the meaning came across.

      Like

  17. Such longing for something gone, very sad.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. A moment of respite when a life gone is relived only to disappear again. Lovely writing, Iain.
    pax,
    dora

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Dora, much appreciated.

      Liked by 1 person

  19. This piece speaks so loudly I can’t hear what it’s saying. Or, maybe I just need some coffee…

    Liked by 2 people

  20. Wow – that’s quite a piece, Iain. It’s suffused with grief for parting. The narrator is almost blaming the other for not being there, and yet you very cleverly hint that she has died with “Emptiness. As you fade away.” Lovely and impressive writing.

    Liked by 1 person

  21. “All and nothing at all” — Well done, Iain.

    Liked by 1 person

  22. I was left with a bit of grief and sadness. You expressed so much in your words.
    An unusual write for you but I enjoyed it immensely, Iain. Welcome back … Stay Safe 😷
    Isadora 😎

    Liked by 1 person

  23. So good to have you rejoin the ranks, Iain 🙂 And this story? A new direction for you, an extension of your already vivid imagination.

    Liked by 1 person

  24. I like the way the story builds, as each question is raised, as the emotional power increases.. A compelling story I think.

    Liked by 1 person

  25. I rather enjoyed this,

    Liked by 1 person

  26. Oooooo
    Love this
    Such sadness and loss the memories bring. Well done!

    Liked by 1 person

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