Grayscale by Brian Burmeister

GRAYSCALE by Brian Burmeister

A month after Mom passed, I went back to the house to pack up.

In the corner of her closet, buried under a pile of blankets, was a box within a box.

Inside were dozens of aged, black-and-white photos of my mother with a man I didn’t know. There were no letters, no notes on the backs of the photos, nothing to indicate who they were of or when they were from.

I wondered: Did my father know she was happy once?

Brian Burmeister is Program Chair of English and Communication at Ashford University, and his writing has appeared in such publications as Cleaver Magazine, The Furious Gazelle, and Yellow Chair Review. He can be followed @bdburmeister.

One response to “Grayscale by Brian Burmeister”

  1. The less is more approach is exhilarating. I recommend to you the stories of Lydia Davis, who shows, brilliantly, that to make a point is to ever so slightly elude it, allude to it, and turn it into a metaphor.
    This story is great because so much speaks between the lines. And that is what a reader wants, the words between the lines, that would not be obvious if it were not for existing lines.
    This might be the most generous advice I have ever given another writer, not as a writer, but as a reader.
    Thank you.