The line that got me wasn’t the clones or the soil or even the ring—it was, “I know,” I reply to the oldest Jim clone. That’s the moment the whole thing buckled. You weren’t reaching for shock or sentimentality. You were showing the quiet, day-to-day horror of grief turned domestic.
Also: “He trims his grey the way I like it.” Jesus. That’s brutal.
The pacing is so calm it almost feels safe—then it punches you in the back of the head with that final sentence.
You didn’t overwrite it. You just let it rot slowly in the open. That’s why it works so well.
It's funny, I never think to share my flash fiction. They feel like I'm playing around. It's nice that you appreciate it though, so I'm pulling out my files!
This was beautiful—subtle and smart in all the right ways. I’ll be honest, the clone detail threw me at first, but I loved how it all unfolded. By the end, I felt where it was heading, but it still landed with that quiet heartache. The way memory, love, and loss are layered into the garden, the tree, and even the clones—it really stuck with me. Really lovely writing.
The line that got me wasn’t the clones or the soil or even the ring—it was, “I know,” I reply to the oldest Jim clone. That’s the moment the whole thing buckled. You weren’t reaching for shock or sentimentality. You were showing the quiet, day-to-day horror of grief turned domestic.
Also: “He trims his grey the way I like it.” Jesus. That’s brutal.
The pacing is so calm it almost feels safe—then it punches you in the back of the head with that final sentence.
You didn’t overwrite it. You just let it rot slowly in the open. That’s why it works so well.
Great read. Thanks for sharing!
Wow. I almost want to frame this. Thank you for reading and taking the time to share your thoughts. It means a lot!
Love the ending to this story. You should share more of these.
And good luck with the trip!
It's funny, I never think to share my flash fiction. They feel like I'm playing around. It's nice that you appreciate it though, so I'm pulling out my files!
Great! Do you submit them to lit mags too?
Wow! Left me a little weepy, thinking about my own Ken. Beautiful and wrenching at the same time. Thanks for this.
Grief is never-ending. I'm sorry you were weepy. I hope you had a good cry and thought of all the memories you shared, and found comfort. <3
This was beautiful—subtle and smart in all the right ways. I’ll be honest, the clone detail threw me at first, but I loved how it all unfolded. By the end, I felt where it was heading, but it still landed with that quiet heartache. The way memory, love, and loss are layered into the garden, the tree, and even the clones—it really stuck with me. Really lovely writing.
Thank you so much Clumsy! Your share inspired me!