Welcome to Tuesday ... Welcome to Tuesday Tales ...
Time for a new story. This one has no title, yet, and has been on the back burner for a few years now. I think I posted one or two excerpts, but I felt lost in the story at some stage, so hopefully with prompts and some feedback I might finish it.
Today's prompt is MIRROR
Enjoy - and feel free to leave a comment. And don't forget to click the link below to go back to the main Tuesday Tale site for more stories by very talented authors.
I couldn’t believe it when I found Grandma’s diary in one of Mum’s boxes amongst books, magazines, records, and even a mirror, a few weeks back. It was a bit like a “wow” moment, and I remember staring at it for a while. A while that could’ve been a few seconds, or a few minutes. Who knows? I carefully touched it and gently traced the outside before I opened it. Wondering what I would find, or read, perhaps discover. Then I rolled my eyes, thinking, for God’s sake, it’s just a diary.
But it was Grandma’s diary! I think I was around ten or eleven when grandma died. We flew to Germany for the funeral. It was a big event, and I met a lot of people who introduced themselves as uncles, aunties, cousins, and the likes. I had no idea. Well, I was only little. Or young, even though little as well. So Mum hid this treasure from me all my young life. I’m not ten anymore, as you would’ve guessed. Yes, I have just turned thirty-one. Lost the love of my life, after we had been together for about three and a bit years, but most importantly, I lost my Mum. It took a while longer to accept those news. All of a sudden she was gone. No, it wasn’t cancer. It was her heart. Bang! One day she was happy, complaining I still hadn’t settled down, the next day – gone!
I carefully open up the diary and flick through a first few pages. An old sepia coloured photo falls into my lap. It shows a woman with long hair. I assume it’s blonde, but it’s hard to tell with the lack of colours. The woman is smiling and squinting into the camera. She looks beautiful, even in the old-fashioned daggy clothes. I study the photo and notice she’s very skinny under the clothes. Her hair is tight up in a ponytail which hangs across her shoulder. She’s got beautifully shaped eyes and from the sepia colour I can only assume they’re of a darker colour in real life. Her smile is genuine and I wonder about the reason is behind the smile. I hold the photo a bit closer and notice some freckles on her face. I smile. Just like me. And then I turn the photo over and read in Mum’s handwriting: Hedwig Maria Stein. It’s my grandma! I turn the photo again and have another close look. Mum always said I reminded her of Grandma. Especially my eyes. So I assume Grandma had green eyes like me. I hold my hand over her eyes on the photo and check out Grandma’s mouth. It’d be nice to think I’ve got full lips like her. And I cannot believe what I’m seeing. I squint as I move the photo even closer. Grandma even has the small gap in her front teeth like me. Cool!