Empty Nest

Jeanne had preserved her son’s room exactly the way it had been the last night he slept in it. From the eclectic collection of trophies on the shelf above his bed, to the movie posters on the walls, to the CDs and DVDs piled up in messy stacks next to the television, it was just the way he had chosen to leave it.

She had allowed herself two minor indulgences in making the bed and washing and putting away the dirty clothes he had left on the floor, but that was all. His organizational habits may have driven her crazy while her son was still in the house, but now that he was gone it seemed somehow important that she maintain his room as a monument to the boy who once lived there, flaws and all.

Jeanne tried to tell herself that she was being silly. It was just a room, after all. And she was hardly the first parent to experience all the swirling emotions that come with the absence of a child.

Other parents had it harder that she did.

She had to keep reminding herself that in the uncertainty, there was hope. Hope that the day would come when he once again walked through her front door, gave her a big hug, and told her all about where he had been and what had happened to him.

One day he’d come home and visit, of that she was certain. The college he had chosen wasn’t that far away.

The only question was how much laundry he would bring with him when he finally did come home again.


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272 words
Prompt: Write a story of 300 words or less about a missing person.

Originally written for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge"  and "I Write in 2018" .