Flash Fiction - Romance Writers Weekly #lovewritechat

We here at RWW love flash fiction! This week, Fiona Riplee has set the following challenge:

Write a flash fiction of 250 words or less about a long lost love. Include the words: hammer, chisel, and coping saw.

If you joined me from Dani Jace welcome!

Before I could get started, I had to look up what the hell a coping saw was. After that – this is what you get!



The scent of sawdust rose like incense. He breathed it in, settled his soul. This workshop was his church, his holy place.

With smooth strokes of his coping saw, he created perfect notches in the fragrant cedar wood. No brutish chisel for this work. He placed this, the final side of the small box, into position and draped felt over the corner. With a small, rubber-headed hammer he gently blessed the edges, unifying the piece. The dovetail joints came together perfectly. He gazed at his work for a moment, his hand stroking the silken, sanded surface. Then, oh so gently, he turned the box over, revealing the opening on the underside.

Stepping away from the workbench, he moved to the back of the shop, where rows and rows of similar boxes rested quietly on the shelves blanketing the wall.

Those on the topmost shelf were crude and rough. They’d been the best he could do, all those years ago. Each successive box was evidence of his improving skill and technique, but he had yet to create one that completely satisfied.

The lowest shelf held only three boxes. Taking the last of these, he carried it carefully to the workbench, placed it gently next to the newest box.  The differences between these two were small, but his critical eye still saw them, knew he had, yet again, achieved a new level of creation. Not perfection, not yet, but closer.

Opening the box he’d taken from the shelf, he carefully lifted out the sealed plastic bag. Its contents shifted as he held it in his hand, cradled it to his heart for a moment, before he reverently placed it in the newest box. With one last caress, he took the final piece of cedar and screwed it into place, sealing the box.

With infinite care he turned it over, not wanting to jostle the bag inside anymore than necessary. Lifting it gently, he carried it to the shelf, and lowered it into its place.

He could hardly believe it had been 25 years since he’d lost her. 25 years of missing his soulmate, his best friend, his lover. But as long as he lived, as long as he could hold a tool, he would honour her memory with the work of his hands.

I’d love to hear your comments. And don’t forget to hop on over to Raine Balkera to get her take on this challenge!