The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Men are Coming Back
by Elaine Pascale

She had perfected stick welding.  Where others became frustrated with the process, the focus on the minutiae made her feel as if she were soaring, just like the planes she repaired. Years of tatting, sewing, and knitting had trained her hands for precision. She was prouder of the machinery she repaired and fabricated than of any of the table cloths, napkins, or shawls she had made growing up.

She was doing this for her country, but she was also doing this for herself. She wanted to weld a small iron picket fence for her yard. She would put it around the rose bushes she dreamed of growing in her barren yard. She would delight in shocking everyone by saying that she had made the fence herself.

The men are coming back.

There were posters everywhere, encouraging the women to return to the home and hearth. The images of cherubic children eating the lunches provided by their mothers were meant to persuade. The war was over, and the men could now resume their important work.

The men are coming back

She was lost at home. Her skills were wasted and she fixated on the fantasy of the fence.

Her brother understood her dream. He snuck her into the cavernous garage. He helped to scavenge scraps of metal while she welded behind blocked windows. The iron melted together as if it were meant to be and she lost track of time while engrossed in her joy.

The men are coming back.

The men were inside the garage before they heard them. She and her brother didn’t have time to run. “You can’t let them in here anymore,” one growled while the others held her brother down. “They were told to go back home.” Their kicks and punches landed where they shouldn’t. Her brother’s brain swelled, and he was never the same.

The men are coming back.

The men were working inside the garage. They were working with highly combustible equipment. She knew all about that and she knew about many other tools that were at her disposal. It was not difficult at all for someone with her dexterity to permanently seal the doors shut while the fire consumed all that was inside.

This time, the men wouldn’t leave.

Fiction © Copyright Elaine Pascale
Image courtesy of Nina D’Arcangela

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