Back on the usual spot. It’s nice to get out of the dark box in the attic.
The first minutes were rough as always – turned upside down, shaken around, played with like a toy, before being settled on the mantelpiece.
The youngest is tall enough to reach me now, so I had a couple of rude awakenings, plucked from my perch at risk of being dropped, until the parents came to my rescue.
A nice tree this year. I wish I could smell the fresh pine, but I’ll settle for the gentle glow – new lights I think. There was lots of laughter while the tree was decorated.
It was only on the big day itself I noticed mother crying. Later on Grandad turned up on his own. I assume it was old age and nothing worse, but the day was lessened without the presence of Granny.
There were more presents than ever. The youngest got a small drum kit from Uncle. The parents weren’t thrilled. Even through water I can hear the vibrations when he starts banging.
It will be back into the box soon, forgotten about until winter returns. I can’t wait to be shaken upside down again.
Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). Hosted by Al Forbes. For more details visit HERE.
To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
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