I’m told stairs come down from heaven onto a beach where my grandfather used to run everyday. He was always astonished by the change in light, how no one ever seemed to use the steps and that, when there, he held no desire to climb them. That only came at home, on the occasions when he suddenly remembered that strange place.
Father always maintained his parents met there, though. That they had a whirlwind romance before they both disappeared, leaving him behind.
All the older relatives swear it's true. Whatever the truth, I’ve seen stones that tell a different story.
Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt (see here for other stories):
PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr
An ominous last line
ReplyDeleteThat was a great take!
ReplyDeleteI wonder how many others, like me, went back to read it again, looking for more. . . .information? Resolving the mystery?
ReplyDeleteReally well done.
A magical place, by all accounts. Just what kind of magic...
ReplyDeleteGood storytelling.
JadeLi@tao-talk