Flash fiction
Too far gone….
Published in
Aug 5, 2024
Rinsing the dishes, his elbow moved rhythmically in and out of the hole in the arm of his sweater. “Your late sister gave me this,” he said, wiping his hands on the tea towel.
“Take it off and I’ll darn it for you,” I offered.
Back home, I examined the disintegrating sweater. There were more holes than body. Moths? Overuse?
It sat on the table for a week, untouched.
I handed it back, undarned.
“Too far gone” I said.
He looked at the sweater, then at me, and sighed. “Aren’t we all?”
