I wrote this for this week’s Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle 100 words (or so) based on the photo prompt below. Come join us!
What We Meant To Say
“We must empty the room now, Mamma.” I reached out for my mother’s hand.
Papa’s office had been the smallest room in the house. Without windows; just a small wood stove to chase winter away. He had died 5 years ago, and Mamma had not entered the room since then.
“Let’s go through the desk, Mamma.”
“Burn all of this,” Mamma said.
“He would want it so.”
“And so do I.”
“Isn’t there anything you want here, Mamma?”
She walked over and took the feathered quill from his ink well. “He still had something to say.”
PHOTO PROMPT -Copyright – Jan Wayne Fields