‘Returning’, a flash fiction story by Maureen Weldon




I walk the busy road, stop at an old wrought iron gate, it squeaks and is open.

Oh how I love these trees, this stony path.

Being early Summer bees are singing and the sweet smell of honeysuckle delights me.

I approach the house. Rose-tinted creeper hides old orange bricks. Bright fuchsias slouch on either side of a green wooden hall-door.

“Blacky, is this you? My darling little Blacky-cat. Can you really remember me?”

I hear a whistling, a sound so familiar. My Dad is approaching from the back of the house.  (Will I hide)?

From the kitchen a lovely soft contralto voice hums.

“Mary, is supper nearly ready?” “No Harry, it will take at least another half an hour.”

I am not sure whether to use the old key I have kept so safely all these last ten years?


Maureen Weldon


[First published on “Rivertrain”, Morelle Smith’s blog, Summer 2014.]


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Paul Beech
    Sep 14, 2014 @ 04:24:41

    Maureen, ‘Returning’ is a very fine piece of poetic prose. Brief maybe, but so atmospheric and charged with feeling that we are truly moved.

    My very best,



  2. Maureen Weldon
    Sep 14, 2014 @ 11:19:01

    Thank you Paul for publishing it. I very much enjoyed writing it.



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