Even before returning to the machine and seeing that this week Denise’s prompt word for Six Sentence Stories is “trunk”, a boy you may remember from past sixes, or perhaps even from my book, had started in on me to write this continuation of his story. Six sentences constitute a manageable puzzle. Join Denise and her merry gang in piecing together a response to this weekly writing prompt.
Silence Shared by D. Avery
The rest of that long summer, the summer that Jimmy died, I never got past the front porch, never got on my bike to go anywhere, just finished out the time before school started up reading old books I’d already read a million times. Sometimes Jimmy’s mom would come by and mostly we’d just sit there not saying anything, but it was okay, and the day before school she gave me a picture of me and Jimmy from a camping trip when we were little, and his baseball glove. I put both in the small trunk at the back of my closet, the trunk that also held some things that had been my mother’s before she died.
At school every class was the same, me alone next to an empty seat and that empty seat making it hard for me to speak. When I got home and Dad asked me how school went I said ‘fine’ and he didn’t press for more because he and I understood the thing we shared, the silence of our small trunks at the back of our closets. I watched my dad go back to the shop, me still sitting on the front porch trying not to think about much when Jimmy’s mom came by to ask me how school went and I started to say ‘fine’ but my lip started quivering and then I was sobbing in her arms and she held me and comforted me like I imagine my own mother would.