Esther Chilton, who has a blog at WordPress, challenges us to write things to prompts. On a Monday it’s a limerick using a particular word (this week it was ‘Santa’ ) and then on a Thursday its telling a story in five words. The prompt today was ‘presents’.
I wrote these eight lines and included an eight letter word using the first letter of each line, just for fun.
Image copyright Sue Vincent. From Sue’s #writephoto photo prompt.
This is my first ever ping back so I hope it works……
The stone gateway was imposing, the heavy gates looked too big to push open easily. The first time I walked through the gates I was 10 years old and very nervous. My grandma lived in the big house, but as we had only just moved back after several years abroad I had never met her. Seeing the gates and the stone gateposts made me think that someone very important lived there.
I remembered the long tree lined drive. The dappled sunlight warming the golden gravel. I wanted to know how far it was to the front door so I started counting steps, but lost track around 300. As I turned a bend in the path I saw short, grey haired lady in horn rimmed glasses, she didn’t look as scary as I imagined her. She was waiting at the top of three steps made of grey stone. I wanted to run up to her, but mom had told me to be polite. So I walked up slowly and quietly said hello.
That had been 40 years ago. My gran must have been about 50 but I had thought she was very old. I remembered her putting a record on for me, a Beatles song. ” Help ” I think it was? From then on she would always play music when I arrived, some pop music, other times classical music like Stravinsky or Rachmaninov. Sometimes we danced together and laughed at each other.
Today was a sad day. The last time I would walk through those gates. I remembered all the happy times I had spent there. Afternoons after school always seemed sunny. Gran would give me a snack and Mom would pick me up when she finished work.
Now both of them were gone. Today I had to lock up grans house and hand over the keys to the estate agent. The funeral had been a week ago. I had her favourite music played at the ceremony.
As I left I shut the gates gently, knowing I would never walk there again…..