Sons make choices and, like it or not, it’s the mother’s job to support, which is to say I never liked his wife. A charming boy, he’s needed a lot of support. I don’t like thinking of him there, fragile in the heartless city, cocooned in that apartment alone with her, turning into what. I know he thinks of me. I saw my picture hung beside his shaving mirror on my only visit. Since then, I think she’s convinced him I have died. My picture sees him while he shaves. He winks at me. I watch his troubled eyes and wonder what went wrong in his genes to make him choose her. She flashes past the bathroom door while I watch, foggy, intermittent, tossing sarcastic comments over her shoulder. She’s a wit. I’m thinking of shaving my mustache, he says, as if she’s fed him the words to say to break a mother’s heart. He might as well dig up the grave and shave his father’s mustache! He wouldn’t. If I reach him, he won’t. I open my tiny, my glossy, my black and white thin-lipped mouth, the only mouth I have in the room, to plead with him not to. It’s his last link to health. He looks at me. He looks at his father who loved his life and married his mother for better or worse and smiles at us while he lathers. I am screaming. There is a thickness to a photograph. Universes fit within this fraction. I have full lips within this plane and shoulders, lungs, the will to be heard, and life proceeds from here in unexpected directions. Someone is behind him. What will it sound like, my black-and-white cry? He bends toward the water. I look into the pitiless eyes of his wife.
Copyright © June 27, 2007 David Hodges
14 comments
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June 27, 2007 at 4:56 pm
Helen McGlasson
I’ve really enjoyed reading all the snippets from each story, and the entirety of this.
I’m not usually tempted by short stories, because I feel cheated that the story has ended just as I am getting into it, but these bite sized bits are delicious!
It is only the lateness of the hour, and the pressing of time that prevents me from reading all of them, so I hope to come again.
Good for you!
Thank you, Helen, and welcome to Very Short Novels! I had to skim your comment from the spam filter. I’m glad I looked. “Reading all of them” at once is not recommended. Coming back most certainly is!
–David
June 27, 2007 at 7:37 pm
Valentin
I just wonder … 4. and the followings would be “My uncle mustache”, “My neighbour mustache”, “Circus`s woman with mustache”, “My shaved mustache” … :-))
Nice work, keep it on.
Why not? The Invisible Mustache. The Mustache Symphony. Valentin’s Mustache. Thanks for your comment, Valentin.
–David
June 27, 2007 at 8:47 pm
Miriam
Hooray! Another sequel!
Looks like I had more to say. Thanks, Miriam.
–David
June 28, 2007 at 2:12 am
litlove
Oh Bravo, David! I could never have guessed where this third perspective would be placed, but the voice of the mother in the photograph is just brilliant, and continues the cunning, quirky relationship to the fantastic that this series has set up so well. That’s a powerful image of the mother screaming her black and white cry behind the veneer of the photograph. I really admire the modern take on the fantastic you are creating here; no ghosts or ghoulies, just a perpetual, clever transition of what’s possible in narrative into what ought to be impossible in reality. I love the way each sequel has only served to deepen the enigma of the mustache rather than resolve it.
Thank you, Litlove! Once I set myself the challenge and examined the available cast, I had left myself no other choice than to give the mother a voice. I love to write about the impossible, but I couldn’t do it without readers willing to go for the ride.
–David
June 28, 2007 at 4:14 am
ndpthepoetress
My, absolutely this sequel is my favorite! Perhaps because to me, the mustache is the Son’s ultimate way of cutting the said apron strings; not necessarily to break his Mother’s heart, rather as if to establish himself as a man in his own right – even if for now that means merely pleasing his Wife. Truly David, what a new depth of emotive level via words you have achieved in this written context! Kudos! echo… echo… “He might as well dig up the grave and shave his father’s mustache!”
Thank you, Jeane! I love the way you provide your own echo! I’m so glad you hung in there to follow the series.
–David
June 28, 2007 at 7:42 am
Paris
Nice stories. Interesting concept of 299 words 🙂
Thank you, Paris, and welcome to Very Short Novels!
–David
June 28, 2007 at 2:34 pm
wizzer
Excellent. Would the mother ever care for the girl that took her son from her? I just love the concept of all these fears and emotions hidden behind the veneer of THE MUSTACHE.
P.S. How about one from the perspective of the mustache 🙂 – Sorry couldn’t resist after the previous comments re sequels.
Fun idea, Wizzer! Thanks for weighing in.
–David
June 28, 2007 at 4:55 pm
Helen McGlasson
OOO! what was I doing in the spam fritter??
All this late night blogging obviously has it’s pitfalls.
I would like to second the motion for the mustache perspective:)
It can’t be an easy job perched on somene’s lip, never knowing when the blade is going to fall….
Pity the poor mustache. Pity the poor comment sieved by the spam filter. Glad to have you back, Helen.
–David
July 1, 2007 at 12:14 pm
anonymom
I love the idea of the same event told by three perspectives in the short narrative; this is an intriguing and fun read. I think you have discovered a new genre.
Thank you, anonymom. This is the second series of its type here at Very Short Novels. Type the word “unhappiness” into the search field down there at the bottom of this page and you’ll find another.
–David
July 2, 2007 at 10:27 pm
Vivienne Quek
I’ve read 3 Mustache tales, so what’s next? A prequel or another sequel?
Thank you, Vivienne. Nine days later, I’ve decided three was enough.
–David
July 4, 2007 at 5:54 pm
nursemyra
I took your advice and started catching up on the stories I’d missed while away. thought I’d squeeze one in before going to work. now I find it’a a three-parter and you’re going to make me late. damn you david!
What’s more important, nursemyra? Take the day off.
–David
July 10, 2007 at 6:10 pm
trish
I’m slowing sinking in and getting to know you – your moustaches are my favourite thus far. I’ve always had a thing for facial hair. 😀
LOVED how well-written the mother’s POV was. Excellent!
Thank you, trish.
–David
July 10, 2007 at 9:10 pm
MyMusings
I love this story. I am moved and need more…. now to find the related chapters! I must say I thought of my grandmother the entire time. She always said that kissing a man without a mustache was like eating an egg without salt.
Thank you Michelle. Seems everybody has a personal relationship to mustaches.
–David
July 13, 2007 at 12:15 am
briseis
Oh, WOW.
This – along with it’s two partners – was amazing!
I’m glad you got to read them all together. Thanks, Briseis.
–David