Flash Fiction: Treasures

Beth and Ben stared at the mess lying on grandpa’s bed.

They took one last look inside the wardrobe they had freshly emptied. Dejected, they ran down the stairs to their grandfather. Puffing their cheeks the little twins stood between grandpa and the television.
“Grandpa is a liar,” the two declared in unison.
Grandpa adjusted his spectacles.
“When did I lie?”
The kids led him up to his bedroom. They pointed to the empty wardrobe.
“You said grandma kept her treasures here before going to heaven.”
Grandpa smiled looking at the mess on his bed.

“I never lied. They’re here.”


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 25th Oct 2019
PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

45 comments

      1. There is always hope. Until all hope is gone. The way I read the Pandora story, the last gift in her box (which was actually a box) was hope. But hope is, in fact, a curse. For it leads us into all manner of byways and muddlesome muddles.

        Liked by 1 person

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