Mormor sat on the porch. The seat Morfar had occupied was vacant. Lillian didn’t remember her grandfather but in her imagination Mormor’s hands intertwined with his, her eyes fluttering and hearts racing. As time past, their hands still held, the glances were loving and hearts beat in happy unison. “Can I join you Mormor?” Her grandmother patted the seat and Lilian sat. She told her about her day at school and the stick insect she’d found on the way home.
“Who you talking to Lilian?” Her mother broke the easy rapport.
“Lillian love, she died twelve years ago.”
In response to Charli’s prompt where she asks:
November 2, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story a chair on a porch. Why is it there, and what might it mean? Think about using it as a prop or the main thrust of your story.
Respond by November 7, 2017 to be included in the compilation (published November 8). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!