The sepia face of his mother looks back at him as if assessing his worth. The photograph is stamped with the name of the studio and the year 1913. It was in his mother’s bureau, his now, tucked at the back amongst discarded hair grips, disintegrating elastic bands and yellowing receipts. His finger follows the jagged tear along the right-hand side of the photograph where something seems to be missing, like a crucial piece of a jigsaw puzzle. He walks over to the window and holds it to the light. Now part of a second person can be seen, like a shadow or ghost - a man with a hint of the orient about him, not unlike his own sallow features. He frowns. A memory tugs and, as he looks out at the garden, it grows stronger, gathering colour and sound, until he feels the grass beneath his feet and hears his mother’s fleeting laughter as he chases a cricket ball thrown by a stranger.
Anita Goodfellow has an MA in creative writing from Bath Spa University. Her stories have been placed and shortlisted in various competitions including Flash 500, Retreat West, Trip Fiction, Cranked Anvil, Bath Flash Fiction Award and The Bedford Competition and published in numerous anthologies. She loves experimenting with flash. @nitagoodfellow
This story was shortlisted in the July 24 Monthly Micro Competition.