Grandpa’s Tool Shed #flashfiction

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write about tools. Whose tools are they and how do they fit into the story? What kind of tools? Go where the prompt leads!

Charli, of course wrote about writer’s tools and provided a multitude of links to great resources for learning about them. She also wrote about tools for dealing with snow, but I can only imagine using them. My experience with snow is very limited.

I drew upon my memories of childhood for my response. I hope you like it.

Grandpa’s Tool Shed

Jacob worked tirelessly alongside Grandpa. He loved the sweet scent of sawdust curls and the heady smell of fresh paint. He loved that ash from Grandpa’s cigarette fell unchecked into the shavings. He especially liked using Grandpa’s real tools. The plastic bench at Kindy was only a toy.

Jacob’s visits decreased but Grandpa never forgot. He left the house, the shed and all his tools to Jacob. Standing in the dark empty shed, Jacob tried to conjure the smells of Grandpa. There was nothing else to do. He rolled up his sleeves and started planing sawdust curls — in memory.

Thank you blog post

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

53 thoughts on “Grandpa’s Tool Shed #flashfiction”

  4. Pingback: Grandpa’s Tool Shed #flashfiction — Norah Colvin | Chel Owens

    1. Norah Post author

      You’re so clever to rebuild your own motorbike, Kate. I’m not much good at anything with my hands, though I’m usually pretty good at solving problems. (Causing them too, some might say. 🤣)

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  10. Pingback: Tool Time « Carrot Ranch Literary Community

    1. Norah Post author

      I’m so sorry your comment disappeared, Susan. I know you would have shared positive thoughts and wisdom, so I thank you for it anyway. I’m pleased you enjoyed the story and found it worthy of a longer comment. Thank you. 💖

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      1. Susan Scott

        You were the one who said ‘There was nothing else to do’ which evokes imaginatively a situation we each may face, at some stage. And his action thereafter, in honour of his memory. Altogether a lovely piece of writing Norah …

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    1. Norah Post author

      Thank you, Anne. I enjoyed thinking about the smells of the toolshed. My grandad didn’t have a tool shed either and I don’t remember spending that kind of time with him. But Dad worked with wood (and other materials) quite a bit and I was always fascinated by the plane and loved the smell of fresh-cut timber. Hub is a carpenter so I still get to experience it at times.

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        1. Norah Post author

          How clever of you to make your own bed. I’m impressed. Hub is actually a carpenter/joiner too. I didn’t put his full title in because I don’t think the joiner part is used so often here. Or maybe I just hadn’t heard of it before. Of course, there are joinery workshops. Or were – before Ikea. Many of them have closed over the years with all the ready-made assemble-it-yourself furniture available now.

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    1. Norah Post author

      Thank you for your lovely comment, Carol. I always enjoyed/enjoy the smell of sawdust. There’s nothing to match the smell of fresh-cut timber.

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    1. Norah Post author

      Thanks, D. I enjoyed writing this one. I didn’t think about word count and just wrote at first, then cut it way back. I don’t think Jacob took up smoking. The younger generation are much more sensible about that.

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