Microfiction: Georgette

A less than 200 word story for Sacha Black’s weekly writing prompt.

She is everywhere in the house, Georgette. Not surprising since she lived here for ninety-seven years. There’s a photo of her on the wall, as well as her parents and husband. No children though. She lived here alone with the two cows until her nephew persuaded her to move to a flat where he could keep an eye on her. There’s a smell of sprightly old lady and cats. Her chair by the stove has a ball of knitting wool shoved down the side. The messages about groceries and visits stuck on the wall by the phone still shout out that life goes on.

In the garden, her bulbs are coming up. In the cowshed, the hay bales smell fresh and spring-like. There is no feeling of emptiness or sadness, but expectancy. What is the house waiting for?


She has left a trail, determined and defiant, as if she has just gone down to the shop to buy a packet of coffee.

We’ll take good care of your house, Georgette.

I make a promise to visit her in her new flat, show her how life has forged another link, and take her the first narcissi.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

14 thoughts on “Microfiction: Georgette”

      1. I feel your pain! I have four. All girls as previously noted which I put down to doing something dreadful in a previous life even though I am an unbeliever. I have to cling onto something ….

      2. I think all boys would be MUCH harder in some ways – like the sheer volume of food consumed for example! I’m very tongue in cheek when I mutter about four girls … I actually think it’s pretty special and wouldn’t change it for the world. However, there did come a time when I needed to reclaim me and they needed find their own paths. I don’t think that would be any different with boys but I have zero experience except by proxy so am not quotable on that!

      3. The food is dreadful. We had the good luck (I suppose) to have a boy who was a late developer and didn’t hit the eating his own weight in steak every day until he was about nineteen. By then he had a grant and could buy his own steak.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s