Friday has arrived once again, and with it, in its little bag of Writerly Happiness, comes Friday Fictioneers. My weekly and eternal thanks to Rochelle for posting prompts to get us thinking and writing. Here is this week’s pic:
“She loved lamps,” my sister explained as her husband boxed the collection. Gran would visit craft sales and carboot sales, junk shops and antique shops, and when she saw a lamp that fascinated her – its shape, its design, its age its spirit – she could not be persuaded from buying it. Grandpa, when he was alive, had given up trying.
Sometimes, rarely, she would light one, and gaze silently into its glow, transported, memories misting her eyes.
I brought the last box down from the attic. It contained newspaper cuttings, telling of a young girl kept in a basement. In darkness.