All There Is

three line tales, week 135: students in the New York Public Library

Photo: Davide Cantelli via Unsplash

 

She would learn everything about it, she promised herself, and details will no longer catch her unaware. The books soldiered on, and she with them. By closing-time she was educated and heartbroken: She knew what it was. She knew it was incurable.

 

For Three Line Tales, week 135

 

Gramma’s Right

PHOTO PROMPT © Nathan Sowers

 

“You can come with me,” she insisted.

“Mazie,” I sighed. “You’re old enough to know not to take Gramma’s stories literally.”

The seven-year-old shrugged, and the new pixie cut she’d insisted on and which took away the curls I so adored, glinted in the light.

She glanced at the dilapidated building, then at me. Her face was inscrutable. Was she hesitant or exasperated? Perhaps both?

The moment stretched.

“Gramma’s right,” she sputtered. “You’re too stubborn for your own good.”

And she stepped through the mirror, onto grass, and disappeared into the shack.

 

 

For Friday Fictioneers: August 31 2018