Trinket

I have another flash fiction piece published in the journal, 121 Words….

It was a trinket of sorts. I found the locket in the attic while looking for Papa’s photos. The clasp was broken and flung open as though wanting to be seen. The portrait on the left of the hinge looked like Mama, but the hair was shorter, neater. Mama had the air of a bohemian Parisian artist about her, a vague eccentricity, endearing her to some and infuriating others.

The man in the frame to the right also looked like Mama. The nose was larger, the eyes, piercing. I wondered if these were my grandparents. We had never gone through old photos. Maybe they thought we would have more time. We make the mistake of thinking there will be a tomorrow.

Categories Writing

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close