Aoife glanced over at the empty armchair. In her mind’s eye her granny raised her eyebrows: ‘I told you so.’
‘Is that President Kennedy?’ Marie asked.
She turned attention back to the pile of photographs.
A woman and a man were dancing in front of a crowd of onlookers.
‘Yes.’ She flipped the photo to the bottom of the pile.
‘And that’s John Lennon.’ She shuffled through the collection. ‘George Best. Elvis Presley. James Dean.’
‘So her tall stories were true?’
‘Seems so.’
‘But what was she doing living here?’
‘She said, “Even wayward Irish salmon return home to die”.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
What a fascinating approach to sharing character histories, Rob. I'd love to know more about the grandmother.
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