First Place: Hold by Andrew Lang

I remember you running faster than the other mums on sports day, I remember you saying, I’m not like the others I’m way out weird, I remember you saying, dry it up and put it away, never leave anything by the sink, I remember you singing on your guitar, oh the buzzing of the bees in the cigarette trees, I remember you saying, oh to be normal, anything to be normal, I remember thinking you’d go on forever. 

I remember you saying I want you to have the things I never had, I remember you saying, go out with as many girls as you can, you learn something from everyone, I remember you shouted, But not that one, no, break up with her, now! I remember you loved the title of the book, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? I remember you saying, these are the best days of my life, but I’ve found them so late, I remember you singing, freight train, freight train moving so fast.  

I remember you sitting on your stool by the Aga with your dog on your knees, I remember your gentle hands when you touched animals, I remember your gentle hands on the back of Dad’s neck when he was low, I remember you saying you’d lie awake at night thinking of all the stupid things you’d said, I remember you shouting, Oh my goodness if you could only hear yourself! I remember feeling angry when they looked down on you, I remember your loneliness, I remember you asleep in the afternoons with your glasses on and a book on your knees, Egyptian PE you called it, I remember when I said, you should get that cough looked at. 

I remember reading in a Stuart Dybeck story, It was the first time I’d ever had the feeling of missing someone I was still with, I remember you drafting letters, the crossing out, the rewriting, the crossing out again, and then the final version, I remember you whispering, he’ll fall apart when it happens and looking at Dad, I remember reading to you as you slept: a book called The Great Circle, I remember you saying, my life began the day you were born. 

I remember I smashed a plate against the wall. I remember I tried to sleep in your bed but I felt afraid. I remember defrosting your beef stew. I remember your half-moon glasses all around the house. I remember your empty shoes. I remember forgetting the date it happened, was it the ninth, or was it the eleventh? I remember thinking, but how could I forget? And if I can forget that, then what else? 

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“Hold” is relentless in all the best ways. The story’s urgent heartbeat/drumbeat refrain conjures memories with equal measures of intensity and tenderness. The mess, mirth, and miracles of mother’s life through her child’s eyes are encapsulated beautifully and assuredly.

Deesha Philyaw

“I remember” repeats like a prayer, imbuing a tenderness to the palpable grief of a mother’s death and the knowing that holding onto memory’s vividness is a losing battle. This is flash fiction at its best—every word counts and combined, this piece penetrates the heart.

Avi Ben-Zeev

Andrew Lang is a writer and filmmaker who lives in London. His debut film, Sons of Cuba, won Best Documentary at the Rome International Film Festival and Best Newcomer at the British Documentary Association Awards. He has written several screenplays, which various production companies are developing. He is new to the joys of flash fiction, and Hold is his debut publication.

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