Tag Archives: Old Age

Sentimental Bric-a-Brac 

Gifting items to Charity or Second Hand shops gives you a satisfactory feeling that the once treasured piece will find a new home. Better than it going to the rubbish landfill site. Although, buying something else to fill that space, kind of defeats the idea of having a clear out. I have known someone who has regretted giving away an item then spends days looking for a similar replacement!

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers, and to John Nixon for the Photo-prompt.

Read more Stories HERE

PHOTO PROMPT © John Nixon

Sentimental Bric-a-Brac 

I called him Grandad since he would come by and ask the same question.
‘Is it here, yet?’

Occasionally, I invited him in for tea and biscuits. He told me his wife brought it into the shop when she was angry with him, because he went fishing on their first anniversary. She passed recently, and he wants it back.

‘Someone will return it.’ He seemed convinced. ‘They always do.’
He would not say what it was. How was I to know?

‘Is it here yet?’
‘Maybe tomorrow.’

Now, I haven’t seen him for months.
Perhaps he found it at home.

Orbiting The Moon

Photo by David Mark from Pixabay.com

Orbiting the Moon.  

Mother stood gazing out of the window
As I walked along the gravel garden path.
She looked through me as if I was hollow.
But I smiled and waved, I saw her laugh.

We sat on the veranda having tea with scones.
She asked where I had been all these years,
Were you lost in space searching for stones?
I can’t remember, she said and wiped her tears.

I passed her the album, pictures of our family. 
My children as babies then going on to school.
Who are these people? I can’t see them clearly,
Ah yes, she said, your father; the stubborn fool.

We walked to the park and sat by the lake.
She told me she was proud of her beloved son,
The first Scots astronaut who promised to take
Her sightseeing past Mars and to orbit the moon.

Is it time to go? she said and held my hand.
I pulled up the blanket to fend off the chill.
How long will it take and where shall we land?
She rested on my shoulder and slipped away,
So peacefully, silent.
As the sun was sinking behind the hill.