
There was a white thing on the surface in front of him. Its outside tapered at the bottom and was open at the top.
“Hat,” he said. The word meant something, but he couldn’t remember what.
The woman handed him the thing. “Drink,” she said.
Actions he understood, and he drank. But the names of things swirled around him like a flock of flying things, and he couldn’t restore any to the places where it should roost.
He knew he loved the woman, but couldn’t remember what to call her.
“Knife,” he said.
Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.
Excellent writing. Moving and insightful. Clever use of words and repetition.
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Thanks so much, Derek
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Poignant as strokes and dementia and other conditions are. Beautifully written. You captured the frustration and the despair. At least he knew love.
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Thanks, Irene
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‘Great’
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Thanks, Martin
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Surprisingly we both took the same inspiration from the prompt, although from different points of view. This was painful to read, heartbreaking in what I imagine to be its accuracy.
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And an odd inspiration it is too. Thanks, Sandra
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Maybe I’m the only one, but is there something ominous about the connection of ‘knife’ with the name of the woman?
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I’m afraid I was playing with the reader there. It may be no more sinister than the association that knife rhymes with wife. But then again …..
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Most readers like to be played with…
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Thanks, Iain
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Dear Neil,
Actually the use of knife as you’ve said in the comment to Ian could very well be ‘wife’ in his mind. My MIL is in the latter stages of Alzheimer’s. She will say odd things and then seem perplexed that we didn’t understand her. Well done, sir.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks, Rochelle. And I should say I wasn’t particularly thinking of Alzheimers in this piece. There are other conditions in which words disappear. All is verbs are intact, it’s just nouns he has trouble with
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What a strange world he must inhabit, without the names for things. How can he conceptualise without having names for things? Tragic.
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if he can seee things as processes, gerunds may help him escape – as in the catting satting on the matting
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Excellent depiction, Neil. It could be post-stroke or post-accident. I recall Stephen King doing something similar in Duma Key. The frustration of not knowing words is immense.
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Thanks, Joshua
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How complex the brain is, especially in terms of the use of language to make sense of the world around us. Your story made me think of Oliver Sacks’ The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat.
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Yes I see the connection
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A clever depiction of mental disability. Frustrating for the sufferer, disheartening for the wife.
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Thanks, Christine
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Loved this line. ’But the names of things swirled around him like a flock of flying things, and he couldn’t restore any to the places where it should roost’.
It must be even more painful for her.
Beautifully written, Neil.
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Thanls, Moon
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Quite moving this. Communication is everything! I can’t imagine what it would be like to feel and to be unable to communicate that feeling to the degree you have shown here. Well done 🙂
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Thanks so much
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Great write, Neil. Reminds me so much of what it was like when I first came home from the hospital in ’96. Couldn’t put the right words to anything, and couldn’t speak them if I did. So very thankful I’m not there anymore.
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Thanks, Jelli. That must have been scarey
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It was, and sometimes still is. Still have difficulty with short term memory.
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I really liked how you started with what appeared to be a sad but straightforward story and then managed to weave intrigue into it with that last word!
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
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Thanks, Susan
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Very nicely done, Neil A delicate handliing of a sad and shattering subject.
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Thanks, Lynn
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My pleasure
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‘Perfect’
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Thanks, Varad
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Reminded me, a wee bit, of “Ember” – good movie – try it on Netflix.
Scott
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Thanks
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It is so frustrating if one forgets a name. To lose all ability to use word. It doe not bare thinking off.
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Damn flying tings
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Your story speaks right to my heart. It sounds so much like my father-in-law. He had brain surgery and afterwards he had trouble connecting the right word to an object or person. A bit tearful here
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Thanks, Susie, and sorry
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Sad
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Yes it is. We never really understand ourselves until a bit of us goes wrong
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I sustained a severe concussion this year. Very scary to be unable to piece idea together.
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I can only (as a writer) imagine
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Especially for those of us who live and breathe and sculpt and appreciate words all day long, the idea of losing the memory of what words mean is utterly terrifying. You portray that everyday horror so well here.
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A writer’s worst nightmare. Thanks, Joy
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I watched my grandfather go through it after his stroke, and it was devastating. He’d been a minister his whole life, moving people with his warm, kind, powerful words, debating esoteric points of scripture, and now he couldn’t even ask for water. He was lucky to have my grandmother there; she pushed him through every tiny step of the recovery, refusing to take no for an answer, until he had regained most of his functioning.
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That’s an encouraging story
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It was a testament to the wisdom of marrying a stubborn woman. 🙂
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I am grateful to say that I can only imagine the frustration of not being able to find the necessary words. In an episode of e.r. way back when, a woman has a stroke and thinks she can speak but the words don’t come out as she hears them in her mind. Different kind of scenario but no less frustrating.
Well done, sir.
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Thanks, Dale
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Now that I’m reading other people’s comments, it seems obvious that the man is suffering from some condition, but when I was reading the story, I was visualizing a child, learning to speak his first words, being encouraged by his mother 🙂
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I love that interpretation. I love it when people see something beyond what I’d seen
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Superbly portrayed
Click Here to see what Mrs. Dash Says
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Thanks so much
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he couldn’t restore any to the places where it should roost. What haunting lines are these. You captured the utter helplessness and the futility of grasping things excellently. What a fine though painful story, Neil.
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Thanks so muc, Neel
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You described a very sad situation beautifully.
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Thanks so much
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Such good writing, Neil. You and I–and several others, from what I understand–chose similar themes this week. I promise you, I never read any stories until my own is finished. 🙂
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Thanks so much. Yes I noticed that too. It was unexpected.
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The agony of Alzheimer’s have been beautifully brought out in this post. Very poignant post and a great take on the prompt.
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Thanks so much. I hadn’t particularly intended this to be about Alzhheimers, and I’m not sure whether it would selectively remove nouns.
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Brilliantly written, Neil. I really felt for the pair of them. I know a couple just like the ones in your story, except it’s the husband caring for the wife. They were always inseparable before she had alzeimers, and they still are now. He is determined to keep her at home until the last. That’s love for you.
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Thanks, Sarah
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You’ve put into words what many go through although I am a little concerned about the last word – knife. I wonder…
Click to read my FriFic!
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A writer’s trick. Sorry
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Oh so sad and increasing. My nana has dementia. That blank look before a word is heartbreaking
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Yes, it is
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It was the ‘Knife’ that gave me gooseflesh. I imagined a hard, bitter woman brutalising a fragile deranged husband.
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Wow! Another interpretation I hadn’t imagined
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I’m in that kind of mood today.
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Very moving and well written.
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Thanks so much
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The “knife” gave me an ut-oh, as to what had occurred before. Reading the comments, however, I see that it could be quite innocent. Bad me. 🙂
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But it was exactly the reaction intended
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The tragedy in loosing that ability is so strong here… I can also understand the sorrow of being the loved one here.
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Thanks, Bjorn
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Well written Neil; a respectful and emotional piece told with simplicity
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Thanks so much
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I hope I die before I get to that stage. Very insightful, Neil.
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I don’t thiink it’s something we all go through. Thanks, Liz
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This was heartbreaking.
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I hope that’s a good thing
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But of course!
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Thanks then, Dahlia
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At least he knows he stills loves her. It is so hard when loving relationships fail through brain injury and/ or degeneration. The distraction and loss of mind so accurately captured.
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Thanks, Sarah Ann
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Dementia in whatever form is sad, Neil. I’ve seen several cases in my family, each with a different cause. Good writing. —- Suzanne
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Thanks Suzanne, I didn’t actually have dementia in mind in this
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I’d guess you then meant brain injury. My father had a blood clot pressing on his brain which, when removed returned his ability to speak which he’d lost. —- Suzanne
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My character still has verbs. It’s nouns he’s lost
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Strong story line- felt gripped from the start- sci- fi becoming the shock of …dementia? Memory loss ? Good story.
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Thanks so much. I didn’t have dementia in mind. He has lost his nouns, but not his verbs, so something more selective than dementia
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