Tsundoku by Emily Gibson
2021 Fall Youth Flash Fiction Winner
“GOODBYE FOR NOW, I LOVE YOU” was the final sentence on the snowflake-covered letter that was left outside her front door. Etta held the letter in between her bright red mittens as she stood on her doorstep. Her breath formed into a little cloud in front of her face as she exhaled and skimmed the page. Etta had no idea who had sent her this letter. In hopes to find some kind of clue, she analyzed the envelope. Nothing. Etta’s phone vibrated in her pocket. Her grandmother's name popped up on her phone. Just as she went to answer it, the TTC appeared from around the corner. Etta turned off her phone and ran to catch the bus. She would call her grandmother back after class.
While Etta sat in her 19th Century Literature seminar, she thought about her grandparents. Ever since she moved to Toronto for her first year of university, she had not been back home to visit them. Although Hamilton was only an hour away, she was three months into her first semester and was consumed by her schoolwork. Etta imagined her grandparents sitting in their apartment. She pictured her grandfather at his desk writing. He loved to read too, but for some reason his shelves were always filled with books he had never read. Etta knew there was a name for this, but could not remember what it was. Her grandfather wore oval-shaped glasses and his favourite grey turtleneck. He smiled as he wrote. His wrinkles encased his deep brown eyes and his small gold earring glimmered in the sunlight. His breathing followed the rhythm of his pen strokes. She pictured her grandmother painting her toenails. She loved pampering herself and trying new nail polish colours. This time she used a bright yellow polish with tiny gold sparkles. She sat with her back against her big brown couch and her toes rested on a wooden stool. Etta wished she could be there with them. She missed them dearly and hoped she could return home soon to visit. Paying back attention to her lecture, she finished typing her notes just as the professor told them class was dismissed.
When Etta returned home, she searched in her pocket to find her phone, but instead she found the letter from that morning. Just as she was about to re-read it, her phone buzzed. Etta scrambled to find it knowing that it would be her grandmother. Etta answered her phone, but before she could even say hello her grandmother choked out, “Your grandfather has passed away, dear.”
Lost for words, Etta sank onto the floor.
“He tried writing to you a couple of weeks ago that he was sick… I don’t know if you ever received it. I am sorry, Etta.”
Her grandmother’s words started to fade and Etta thought about their apartment and all the unread books. She finally remembered the word she had been looking for. Tsundoku.
Emily is currently studying English and creative writing at the University of Guelph and will be graduating in Spring 2022. She writes poetry and flash fiction. Emily is currently working on her first screenplay which is a dystopian feminist thriller.