Emma wandered around her grandma’s room listening to her snoring on the bed. She hadn’t been able to sleep and Grandma often made her feel better, but listening to her soothing snores Emma hadn’t the heart to wake her. Emma furrowed her brow a little while watching her Grandma sleep, she seemed so old and frail now.
After Emma crept over to Grandma’s window-seat and pulling the curtains a little sat a while staring at the starry night sky. Absentmindedly while daydreaming, Emma had begun to swing her legs, in a panic she realised she had made a noise against the window seat but the noise was not a wooden knock, it was the rattle of metal.
Emma lowered herself to the floor and began pulling the cushions from the seat and opened the curtains to let in a little more light. Her mouth dropped open as she realised it was a beautiful old chest with ornate locks. “My God…” Emma whispered into the darkness, not able to stop herself.
“So, you have found my secret, have you Emma?” Emma spun around to find her Grandma sat up in the bed. Grandma walked towards her, lifting a shiny key from around her neck. “Come my dear, I think it’s time I tell you the truth about how I really survived the war.”
Originally written in response to Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt – with the an ornate chest that just begs to be asked questions (pictured above) – combined with my own #maydays prompt. Check them out for a fabulous collection of tales and maybe some inspiration for your own blog too.