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June Writing Contest

Each month we hold a writing contest for our members, by our members. Writers are given parameters, such as a word count and/or a prompt. Entries are judged and discussed blindly. For June, submitters wrote a microfiction (250-500 words) story featuring or inspired by a vintage or antique item.


by Sarah McHatton

His hands. I remember his hands the most, wrapped around the tools like an extension of him. The scent of cedar would fill the air. The chisel against the wood was like a lullaby. As a young child, I was intrigued by a sliver of wood turning into something else. When I expressed an interest, my grandfather would lean forward, showing me the basics of how the tools moved on the grain. A few times he would pass me a scrap and a chisel. Soon, I lost interest.

That had been twenty years ago, long before he passed away. Now, I find myself standing here, staring down at an antique set of chisels. I am transported to those memories as if they were yesterday. I could feel the chisel in my hand. Unable to stop myself, I reach out and pick one up feeling the cool wood against the palm of my hand. I felt uncomfortable with the grips of the previous owner, worn into the wood like a groove from use.

I smile, staring down and imagining the chisel dipping into the wood. I could feel the catch of the grain and the slight jar of the chisel travel up my fingers into my palm. I gently lay the chisel back into the worn leather case as I wonder what creatures this chisel brought forth into this world. I walk away, unable to bear the weight of grief I feel coursing through my veins.

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