Photo Copyright: Roger Bultot

Here we are this week sitting around in a small-town diner. We’ve gathered here to discuss our original stories for the week. This is the Friday Fictioneers group. Our hostess for this gathering is the talented and gracious author and artist, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge for each of us is to write a story with no more than 100 words, not counting the title. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week. This week’s prompt was provided by Roger Bultot. Thanks, Roger.

To read the other stories by group members, just click on the link given below, then on the little blue frog in the blue box.

The link for this week’s stories is as follows:


Genre: Speculative Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

WILL’S DINER by P.S. Joshi

“There’s one main gatherin’ place in Maysville, Ohio. Nope, it’s not the barbershop. It’s Will’s diner. I’m Tom and he was my older brother. He died in 2012 at 93. His grandson, young Brad, runs it now.

Births, deaths, bad accidents, big crimes, fires, new people, you hear it all at Will’s. Randy from the Mayville News drops in every day for the latest goings on.

It was real sad during the Vietnam War. We lost ten young people.

Now I suppose they’ll be talkin’ about me. I lived alone and died last night. They just haven’t found me yet.”



51 thoughts on “WILL’S DINER

  1. Thanks, Diana. Yes, a bit more news. I hope it doesn’t take long for neighbors to notice they haven’t seen him.It’s a good thing it’s a small town. I’m glad you liked the story. 🙂 — Suzanne


  2. You have a real grasp of flash fiction, Patricia — and I love that it is all done in so few words. This one evoked real emotion from me. At first read, I wondered why you included the loss of young people so many decades ago. But then I saw it as rather brilliant and poignant. My grandmother is 93. My grandfather passed away only recently. And it’s true that despite all the rest that goes on day to day in the world, there are some moments and years and times that can tend to define people — moments they never really move past. It seems this poor old soul has been living “there” for a long time. Perhaps he served in Vietnam. Perhaps those lost were boys under his command — or they simply reminded him of others he’d lost. Perhaps it was his own son, and he has never really been able to personalize the experience, at least not aloud; so “I lost my son” is voiced as “We lost 10 young people.”

    You may not have thought this deeply into it. But that’s the beauty of art and a well-crafted line. It can mean many things to many people.

    Liked by 3 people

    • Thanks, Erik. I’m sorry for the recent loss of your grandfather. In small towns, everyone knows everyone and the loss of young people is felt by many. Also, my much older brother was in WWII and I remember my mother speaking of “our boys” as though she knew them all. It was worse during the Vietnam War as the shooting and dying were seen on TV. In the town I write about, there was no doubt a memorial to those who fought and died in the wars including the Vietnam War. When you live through a war you don’t forget it. I sometimes wonder how many of the young men in ROTC where I went to college didn’t make it back. I’m glad you liked the story. —- Suzanne

      Liked by 1 person

      • I think your writing soars because you do allow yourself to wonder and to feel life, Patricia.

        And out of curiosity … where did you attend college? And what was your field of study?

        Liked by 2 people

      • Thanks, Erik. I graduated from The University of Akron in 1967. It’s now Akron State University, a branch of Ohio State University. My major was Education. I have a B.S.Ed degree. I taught both 1st and 2nd grades for a number of years. 🙂 — Suzanne

        Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, Alicia. There was a small town not far from where I grew up so I’m familiar with them. There are many of them in Ohio. My dad lived in one when he was young. I’m glad you enjoyed the surprise ending. 🙂 — Suzanne


    • Thanks, Rosanna, for your lovely comment about my stories. Welcome back to the blogosphere. After my husband died at age 86 in February, I took a break from writing flash fiction but recently returned. I’m glad you enjoyed the story. 🙂 — Suzanne


  3. We have a place like that here in Goshen. Those who hang out there can take one crumb of fact and turn it into a mountian of fiction. When those old men start gossiping, it’s hard to sort out the truth from the lies. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thanks, Russell. Ha, ha. Someone should take notes and write a book. My dad missed living in a small town like those where he grew up further southwest in Ohio. We lived within driving distance of one in the northeastern part of the state and he loved to go to the barbershop there. We also attended church and went to a lovely small library there. 🙂 — Suzanne

      Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, Keith. I’ll bet you did learn things quickly. There are places like yours in small towns and neighborhoods all over. I’m happy you enjoyed the story. I’ll hop over and read your story. 🙂 — Suzanne


    • Thanks, Sascha. You’re right. There’s always someplace in a small town where people gather to hear the latest local news. He lived alone but someone will soon find him in that town. I’m glad you enjoyed the story. 🙂 — Suzanne

      Liked by 1 person

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