Friday Fictioneers: Jack’s Bistro

A true story.

Photo courtesy:  Douglas M. Macilroy

Photo courtesy: Douglas M. Macilroy

Jack’s Bistro

Word count:  98

At the end of the patio is a large, square stone pond, raised up from the ground so that the kids could sit safely on the edge, and drop bits of food in for the fish. Grandpa taught them how to fool the fish into thinking that their fingertips were tasty morsels.  It is cold now, and the water is still and dark.  No more fish or children. No more Grandpa. The patio has become hard and unwelcoming; its perimeter bushes thorny and overgrown.

The fish died. So did our restaurant. But our love for it never will.


20 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers: Jack’s Bistro

  1. Oh, my Miss Lisa and Sir Steve, I’m sure it’s no surprise to you both to know how much I miss Jack’s and you being my neighbors. I feel I missed an opportunity to get to know both of you. A lesson learned, I suppose, but you have a huge fan in this little hamlet, for sure.

  2. Koi only seem to circle forever. Sooner or later they pass on. You’ve captured the journey nicely in this poignant tale. Thanks for sharing a true story.

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