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.
All us cousins knew we weren’t to go near it. Grandma had made that clear. However, on a boozy night, our curiousity got the better of us. I accepted the dare to open it. There lay grandpa’s corpse, one eye staring at us.
Mother quarreled with him over his secretive lifestyle. However, he never changed his ways. He would spend hours in our library, buried under piles of books. He never seemed to read them, rather he just skimmed through. Mother had developed a resentment towards books and did not step inside the library, and I simply wasn’t allowed there. One day, while dad was away on a trip, I snuck in. I wore his glasses and began going through his books. It was then I understood his obsession. The glasses highlighted certain words – clues.
It started off with a bright, boozy brunch. The food was as good as if not better than the merry conversations at the table. My head still floating with a mild buzz, I decided to visit the museum. It always transported me to the past. I walked through all the exhibits, taking my time to read all the descriptions. The solid, factual language used, was a nice change from the flowery words I was used to at work. After spending a couple of hours at all the exhibits, I made my way to the technology wing. This was my favourite section. As I observed the handheld devices, I remembered the smartphone era from my childhood. We still had to touch the screen. Today, my brain-link glasses do it all for me.