Photo credit @YarnSpinner
A Broken Parish
by T. Delaplain
Sweat dripped between my breasts and no amount of fanning would release me from the heat’s hellish grasp.
“That ‘lectric fan been broke since you left home,” my starched aunt sniffed as she marched past me with another bacon scented casserole.
The rotting porch sagged under the weight of each parishioner’s righteous step and the splintered shutters and I were judged lacking.
How many covered dishes had they brought when she’d lost her appetite? How many kind words had passed their lips before the burial?
A flutter teased my ear, “Go, before this small town kills you too.”
Have a seat on the porch and share your sultry tale with Friday Fictioneers.
Tracey Delaplain, MD 
Funerals often bring out the worst in people.
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That seems to be true. Thanks for stopping by.
Tracey
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I could feel the small town heat and smell the cooking. Great stuff.
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Thanks Iain.
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Oh, I really liked that! Great, vivid piece of writing. Well done.
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
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Thank you kindly.
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I loved this, Tracey
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Thanks Neil.
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Listen to the voice, leave… Nicely done.
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Momma knows best.
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Nicely done. I felt the itch of sweat rolling between my breasts sans bra because of the stifling heat. I smelled the bacon, wanted a bite of the casserole, didn’t want a bite because of implied guilt. Heard whispers in the background.
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Praise the Lord and pass the biscuits.
Thanks Alicia.
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Wonderful writing, Tracey. I was THERE…
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Thanks Dale.
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Great writing, Tracey.
I can relate to voices staying on and warning us when we need them .
It seems like she was her aunt’s caregiver in her final days, makes me wonder about her background, her parents etc.
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I envisioned that her mom had died alone.
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I felt like I was there. I wanted to read more!
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Thanks Marilyn, unfortunately this character wants to leave us ASAP.
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What evocative writing. Brilliant.
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Thnak you. I’m glad you were swept alone.
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I loved the descriptions here. In particular the bacon scented casserole…
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Scents are powerful and stay with us long after any event. Bacon reminds me of Sunday church potlucks.
Thanks Sandra.
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All I can say is, “Bless their little hearts.”
A very vivid depiction of the self-righteous in the South. Judgmental bastards, but good cooks.
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Praise the Lawd. Fried bacon and a side of guilt.
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Oh, Russell, I just howled with laughter at that comment! The neighbours will think I’m going senile!
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Just callin’ it as I see it, Penny.
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Dear Tracey,
Such vivid storytelling that put me in the scene. I love this sultry tale.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks for taking the time to comment from the sultry Southwest Rochelle.
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Wonderful description in this. So many sensations covered in such a short piece.
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Thanks Clare and bless your heart. (-:
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This was positively cinematic in its vividness, but very literary in that we had to infer from little hints that it was her mom who had died; and the parishioners, far from helping her or offering her love, had sniffed and stayed far away. I think it’s very well written indeed.
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Thank you
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i guess she should heed the advice and leave. time to move on.
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Man, can’t I get a piece of cool melon in this heat Lol,,, wiping the sweat after reading this !
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How about a sweet tea with lots of ice? That’s for stopping by my porch,
Tracey
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Beautifully emotive. I felt like I was there.
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I hope you enjoyed the heat.
Thank you for stopping by,
Tracey
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My dad had a church in a small town while I was a teen. I could actually smell that bacon-scented casserole.
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I bet you can! Every potluck has bacon unless maybe if it’s a vegan gathering.
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And they also had french fried onions from a can, or chinese noodles 🙂
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For sure. A Cardiologist’s annuity.
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This is such an identifiable write. Excellent.
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Thanks, maybe we’ve all been to one of these funerals loaded with guilt and regrets.
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Masterfully done. You’ve packed so much character and setting and story into so few words. And I agree–Mama knows best.
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Thank you. I’m happy to offer up a slice of small town life.
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Great description and being a minister’s daughter growing up in a small town I could relate to the feelings. I was confused as to who had died. I didn’t twig the ‘her’ was her mother until reading the comments although once I knew it was quite clear.
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Nicely done, descriptive and engaging
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Thank you
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Good job showing the dark side of a small town.
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calling into question the non-Christian, Christians.
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I totally get the last line of your story. Well told.
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Thank you Jilly.
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This sounds like the town I grew up in, half a world away. I can see their haughty stares and hear their self-righteous sniffs. Excellent descriptive writing, Tracey.
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I’ve been to this funeral in rural America.
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Yep, go before you can’t. a great story.
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Thanks James. The mother knew that.
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Heat, irritability at a funeral, you captured the atmosphere brilliantly.
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And the smell of bacon, always bacon
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