Hand in Hand, flash fiction by Fatima Nazifi at Spillwords.com

Hand in Hand

written by: Fatima Nazifi

My acceptance letter just came. I called you immediately, Grandpa. I’m so excited. This is what we always wanted. I will quit my job finally and then get started on preparing for this new chapter. I am currently on my way home. Gravel crunches beneath my shoes. When I cross the wooden bridge, the hollow sounds of the planks paired with the gentle flowing river makes me close my eyes. Today feels lonely without you. Summer is in full swing.

The earthy scent of the asphalt tickles my nose. My hand is in yours, and we walk side by side to the playground. I smell the rich scent of grass and sweet, blooming flowers in the air. You sit down on the bench and let me play. I slide down the yellow slide and squeal in delight. When I ask you to help me onto the wooden climbing frame, you are immediately there. You let me hang there by myself while you hold out your hands to catch me in case I fall. Splinters pierce my skin, and still I continue to the other end of the frame. All the while, your large hands hover beneath me. When I finish playing to my heart’s delight with thick red angry blisters on my hands, you again take my hand in yours, and we march on. We walk over gravel paths and over the wooden bridge with the little river gently flowing beneath. I can hear the ducks quacking to each other. When we reach town, our next stop is the ice cream parlour. There is the big ice cream cone with three scoops of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. We sit down at one of the tables at the front of the shop and order our favourites. You get an iced coffee with whipped cream, and for me you get a Mickey Mouse ice cream cup with a scoop of vanilla, waffles for ears, and Smarties for nose and mouth. You tell me stories of all the tales of your childhood in that deep, rich voice of yours. „Once upon a time, there was a princess, she looked just like you with big brown eyes and long dark hair… “
When the story is over you give me that big toothy smile of yours and my Mickey Mouse ice cream is a molten vanilla soup with waffles and Smarties floating around. We are happy. We finish our ice creams and walk home hand in hand.

The telephone rings one time, two times, and there is no answer. I call again. Still, you stay silent. Where are you, grandpa? Pick up the phone, please. Phone in hand, I reach home. I open the door. I walk along the foyer until I reach our living room and ask, Why is grandpa not picking up the phone? My parents look at me with tears in their eyes, and my phone keeps ringing.

About
Latest Posts

Fatima Nazifi

My name is Fatima Nazifi and I'm 28 years old. I study anglophone literature and culture in my masters at the University of Vienna. I only recently moved 800km away from home and I've been feeling lonely. Starting my masters at a complete new university is a challenge to say the least. My aim is to finish my masters and continue doing research at the university and then do a PhD. Since I'm still in my first semester I'm still trying to find out which areas I'm interested in. My current interest includes witch hunting and how women tried to survive in an area that might turn against them on a whim. I admire their bravery and their will to survive. I cried with them, felt their pain and their fear and felt outrage at the circumstances they found themselves in. I hope this provides an insight into my person. I'm still new to writing and still discovering myself but regardless I am excited for my journey as a literature student and this new challenge.