They were the last two of my grandmother’s babies. Close as twins. One with flaming red hair and beautiful green eyes. The other, a blond Adonis.
At seventeen and nineteen, they were coddled as the babies of the family, and praised by all for their good looks.
It was on a rainy night. They had been drinking at a juke joint. Living life, having fun with the girls and the music.
Two teenage boys at the door of possibilities.
It ends there in the dark, speeding down a lonely wet road. Too fast in life, too fast in the car.
Too fast gone.
Yet still remembered. Beautiful, Mimi. In just a few words, you’ve captured every mother’s nightmare, and that amazing loss of potential.
Thank you, Kim.
(I wrote this quickly for the contest because Alex called us out on the radio Sunday night. 
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Two fast gone…your poor Grandmother! It would be hard enough to loose one but two at the same time. Beautifully written, Mimi!
Thank you, Bev. …Many years later, I learned that this nightmare was still very much a horror in my grandmother’s heart… A wreck had happened at an intersection just down from our house. With the sounds of the wreck still fresh in her ears, then the flashing lights, the gawkers coming by, my usually stoic grandmother broke down in our yard. When she could tell us, we learned that the wreck down the road had taken her back to “that night.”
MiMi,
What an amazing story! You left me searching for more! A wonderful writing ability! And certainly something that has cost me sleepless nights many times while raising our children, worried that I would find myself walking in my own dreams…thankfully, that never happened! Thank you for sharing your uncles’ story with us…they would be proud of you!!
Thank you so much. I’ve thought of them often. Remembering them in life is a whir of busy-ness on their parts, but still a little time to acknowledge their little niece. Nothing more than quick flashes of memory, but the memory of their love is with me still.
I cannot tell you how many times I have read this piece, but I can tell you that with each reading I am drawn deeper int the emotions of it.
There is something about the “matter of fact” voice at the beginning that begins to transform into something more personal…and then the suddenness of how the whole thing stops.
This to me, and I ain’t no expert, is creative writing at its best.
Why thank you, sir. : ) That makes me feel so happy! I am deeply honored.
That is a haunting story. You captured it with just a few words.
My heart ached…even though I suspected how it was going to end. So, so sad for your grandmother and the whole family!
Such an honor, y’all. Thank you so much
How heartbreaking for your grandmother! I’m sorry to hear of your family’s tragic loss. It’s one of my worst nightmares as a parent.
I loved your line “Two teenage boys at the door of possibilities”. Doesn’t that say so much — for them particularly, but also reflecting back on youth and all that lies open: a take-for-granted mindset that we realize as we grow older. As a writer, my attention is always drawn to those minutes when life completely changes. Not a gradual change over time, but what happens when an instant takes away our most precious. Terrific writing!