Photo prompt: © Priya Bajpal
“Can I take one now?”
Deena sighed. She ate her oatmeal and drank her milk, but her eyes kept returning to the seashell table Dad had gotten for Mom. Before. To the jar that usually stood on the mantel. Since.
Finally, Grandma rose and put her mug in the sink.
Now that it was time, Deena hung back. She remembered filling the jar, with Grandma, after the accident, when memories were fresh and both their hearts were broken.
Grandma took her hand. “Come. Reach in. Pick one, and you’ll see – the right moment with them will find you.”