2024 February Flash Fiction Challenge: Day 19

For today’s prompt, write a story about a character who is conflicted

Remember: These prompts are just starting points; you have the freedom to go wherever your flash of inspiration takes you.

(Note: If you run into any issues with posting your story, please just send me an e-mail at mrichard@aimmedia.com with the subject line: Flash Fiction Challenge Commenting Issue.)

Here’s my attempt at a story where the character is conflicted:

The Final Stroke

“What do you think it is?”

Lyn and Tera stared at the canvas. Neither of them had been in their mother’s studio since they were children, only seeing it through the lens of an HBO documentary and various magazine spreads with high-gloss images and pithy quotes. Tera had nearly forgotten the overwhelming smell of paint, the loving way her mother’s brushes were lined up on the shelf.

“Nature’s loveliest flower,” Lyn said eventually.

They shared a wry glance. Their mother’s fascination with the vagina defined her career, something that both fueled and paid for Tera’s therapy sessions. But her mother’s focus had shifted in her later years, becoming more abstract, less sexual. She wore looser clothing, became more meditative. Her gaze took on a filmy, far-away look whenever she deigned to video chat with her daughters.

It was odd to see the canvas on the easel, piled halfway with layers of paint in desperate, almost violent clusters. It was almost like their mother could feel the ticking time bomb of the blood clot, the final stroke of the clock. Tera stared and stared but she couldn’t tell which bloom of paint was the last.

“How much do you think it’ll fetch?” Lyn asked.

Tera turned to stare at her. “You want to sell it?”

“You don’t?”

They turned their eyes back to the room. The last painting—it would fetch over a million easy. The back of Tera’s neck prickled like her mother’s disapproving gaze was boring into her from the great beyond.

“Mom would never have wanted to sell something unfinished,” Tera said.

“So? I didn’t want to grow up with a parade of younger, creepier dudes trying to be our stepdaddies either. We don’t always get what we want.”

Tera put her thumbnail in her mouth and bit down. Really, what else would they do with the painting? Put it out with the trash? “Can I think on it?”

“Think fast,” Lyn grunted, spinning on her heel. “I’m reaching out to the lawyers by the end of the week.”