Prompt from the Hat
Rocky Road #8. Attic with Sprinkles and Malt
Rating : G
Timeframe : mid 1250's?
Word Count : 396
Malt Prompt : (Prompts from a Hat) Attic - Berna - objects in the rear view mirror
Berna shuffled through the attic, shoving boxes out of the way with a foot, or, where they stood higher, a hip. Somewhere amidst the clutter was a carton of vases, the kind she used to put out on the tables at the holidays, the kind she hadn’t been bothered with for years. If a wedding wasn’t worth dragging the dusty old things out for, she wasn’t sure what was, or why she’d bothered holding onto them all these years.
Bent to examine the contents of one box, her shoulder met with another and a flurry of papers came raining down from above. One solitary sheet fluttered to a halt before her. Berna gasped at the sight of the likeness of her daughter that stared back up at her from the page. The drawing was rough, but it was unmistakably Tish, and it was definitely his. She lifted the thing with a sigh.
The men had searched the woods for Rune for a month, she and Garret much longer, though they’d never let on. No one found so much as a trace, as if he’d simply vanished. She could still remember the look exhaustion in her friend’s eyes each night they came back empty handed. Eventually, he’d been forced to admit that there was no more he could do. No one even mentioned Rune anymore. As if, by avoiding talking about it, they could erase the whole mad event from their lives. As if the fact that Rune ever existed could vanish as easily as he had.
Jess was gone and buried, and no one mourned for long. The garden still thrived outside the smithy, though through Garret’s labors now. Over the years, Brody’s profound limp had ceased to draw attention. Cole said little these days about much of anything. And Tish, well, nothing ever seemed to phase that girl, not on the surface at least. The charcoal smile of the pigtail wearing Tish on the page may well have been the same as the one she’d seen her wearing that morning when she come to share her plans to fill the dining hall with flowers.
Flowers. Berna shook her head. Garret’s flowers. Rune’s flowers. Perhaps someone was still thinking of the boy now and then after all. With another heavy sigh, she let the paper fall on top of the others and cracked open another box.
Rating : G
Timeframe : mid 1250's?
Word Count : 396
Malt Prompt : (Prompts from a Hat) Attic - Berna - objects in the rear view mirror
Berna shuffled through the attic, shoving boxes out of the way with a foot, or, where they stood higher, a hip. Somewhere amidst the clutter was a carton of vases, the kind she used to put out on the tables at the holidays, the kind she hadn’t been bothered with for years. If a wedding wasn’t worth dragging the dusty old things out for, she wasn’t sure what was, or why she’d bothered holding onto them all these years.
Bent to examine the contents of one box, her shoulder met with another and a flurry of papers came raining down from above. One solitary sheet fluttered to a halt before her. Berna gasped at the sight of the likeness of her daughter that stared back up at her from the page. The drawing was rough, but it was unmistakably Tish, and it was definitely his. She lifted the thing with a sigh.
The men had searched the woods for Rune for a month, she and Garret much longer, though they’d never let on. No one found so much as a trace, as if he’d simply vanished. She could still remember the look exhaustion in her friend’s eyes each night they came back empty handed. Eventually, he’d been forced to admit that there was no more he could do. No one even mentioned Rune anymore. As if, by avoiding talking about it, they could erase the whole mad event from their lives. As if the fact that Rune ever existed could vanish as easily as he had.
Jess was gone and buried, and no one mourned for long. The garden still thrived outside the smithy, though through Garret’s labors now. Over the years, Brody’s profound limp had ceased to draw attention. Cole said little these days about much of anything. And Tish, well, nothing ever seemed to phase that girl, not on the surface at least. The charcoal smile of the pigtail wearing Tish on the page may well have been the same as the one she’d seen her wearing that morning when she come to share her plans to fill the dining hall with flowers.
Flowers. Berna shook her head. Garret’s flowers. Rune’s flowers. Perhaps someone was still thinking of the boy now and then after all. With another heavy sigh, she let the paper fall on top of the others and cracked open another box.