Saturday, November 19, 2011

Auntie’s House

Lucinda and William dined off of hand-thrown pottery. In fact, their home was filled with the artisanal—weavings and ancient quarter-sawn oak, sculpture and paintings from friends. Treasures that took fifty years to amass.
     The funeral was thin. Afterwards, the nieces returned to the house.
     “This is a nice cup,” said Hy, placing the squat and solitary little mug into her cardboard box.
     Jackie looked up from the silverware drawer, “Oh yeah, Auntie Lucy smashed the other one when Uncle Bill died.”
     But Hy had already moved onto the wooden bowls, picturing the big one on her IKEA shelf.

Image: Mylittlethriftstore.

1 comment:

  1. You have a wonderful way of expression in this smaller form. In some ways it feels like haiku to me. Love it!


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