Microfiction: Kiss at the Window


Edvard Munch, Kiss By the Window, Public Domain, Wikipedia.

Inside the house, lamps and hearths glowed, banishing the darkness of the Norwegian winter. As they stood by the window, Fredrik gently placed the pearl necklace around her neck. The lustrous white spheres were cool against her skin. He kissed her, first gently, and then with more urgency. The faint scent of his pipe tobacco clung to his clothes. A knock at their bedroom door made them break apart, as her maid, Sonya, announced that their first dinner guests had arrived. Elisabeth vowed to remember everything about that December night forever. It was her twenty-fifth birthday.

Now alone in her hospital bed, body aching, she watched that memory, a movie in her mind. It had been nearly seventy years ago; twenty years since she had last heard Fredrik’s voice. She sensed—something–the air felt charged. She smelled pipe smoke. She heard a voice say, “Are you ready, my darling? I’ve missed you so.” Her heart fluttered. She noticed a window draped in blue, a fire burning in fireplace. She felt a necklace, cool against her throat. She smiled. She took Fredrik’s hand and walked with him into the glowing light.


This story is in response to Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge. The prompt was the painting above with a two hundred word limit; mine was 191 words.

31 thoughts on “Microfiction: Kiss at the Window

  1. Edvard Munch’s open-mouthed “Scream” painting is so well known that I feel blessed to see a happy and nostalgic painting of his.
    Your beautiful love story was wonderfully visualized, Merril. Elisabeth, remembering the special 25th anniversary gathering and the moments before she and Henrik descended, all set the stage for a wonderful finale!
    I liked all of this, every one of your 191 words carry weight and value.

    • Thank you, Robin. I’m so glad you liked the story!
      I’m not sure what Munch intended the feeling to be in the painting. Like Scream, he did several versions of this work.

      • I really did! 🙂 The painting seems like it depicts a tender embrace, but you are right: who knows what he wanted us to feel when we looked at this, Merril?

  2. Pingback: Microfiction challenge At the window: the entries – Jane Dougherty Writes

  3. Pingback: From Rainbows: Microfiction | Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings

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