The Fisherman

  I wrote this for the March 14: Flash Fiction Challenge

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My father was an artist; a sculptor, usually working in clay or stone. One day he, and six of his drinking buddies, brought a large stone and sat it in the centre of his studio.

 

“What are you going to make from that, Papa?” I asked.

 

“I won’t make anything from it,” he said, “I think I can find something.”

 

He told me that he believed a fisherman was hiding in the stone. That he would find the fisherman by knocking off small bits and pieces. He promised he’d take care not to cut the fisherman with his chisel.

 

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The prompt and instructions were:

In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a chisel. Use chisel as a noun or a verb. Think about what might be chiseled, who is chiseling. Be the chisel. Go where the prompt leads!