I was never allowed anywhere near my grandfather’s Desk when he was alive. I can still see him hunched over, writing hours on end, fountain pen gliding over paper. Even now the faint hint of pipe tobacco calms me.
His portrait placed in honor, constant reminder of devotion to the craft. The poems he wrote to my grandmother during WWI, “Dearest Elizabeth” taught me about love and devotion.
Opening the center drawer I found a secret compartment towards the back. Pulling out letters written in his hand, they began “My Beloved Julia”…
“Dad, who’s Julia?
“Your Great Aunt. Why Honey?”
Welcome to Friday Fictioneers! As per usual, our esteemed host Rochelle posts a photo with the challenge of writing a 100 words.
This weeks photo prompt freaked me out a wee bit. I have been house sitting for my parents. I think they have a near identical painting of the Hunt. And there is a picture of my Great Great Great Grandmother hunched over her old writing desk an ancestors portrait behind her. It felt like Déjà vu.
Oh, And please make sure to check out the other writers creations.
Dana, A bit of family intrigue. I don’t know why some people keep those types of letters. All they do is cause trouble. I guess they think they’ll live forever. Good story and well written. 🙂 —Susan
Thanks Susan. That is a really good point about keeping the letters. I suppose hopeless romantics even misguided ones hold on to tight to the past. These kinds of memories always come back to bite you or in this case your Granddaughter.
Dear Dana, Great story, and the ‘smell of pipe tobacco’ was brilliant! I enjoyed it so much – and too bad she was the one who discovered the letters – which turned out to make things so different! Wow ! Good job! Nan 🙂
Thanks Nan. The smell of my Grandfather’s pipe tobacco is one of my favorite childhood sense memories. I to think it is unfortunate he would be the one to discover them.
Skeletons in the desk drawers!
Dawn you never know where you’ll find them. Especially if your a hoarder. 😉
good tale of keeping it in the family – so to speak. Randy
Uh oh! The hidden compartment reveals a secret life. I love all your details about the grandfather, the smell of tobacco and hunching over, pen gliding over page. Nicely done!
The tobacco was one of my favorite sense memories of my own grandpa. I loved the smell. As a child we had an old colonial desk in our home. Which often have hidden compartments. Ours did, and for years I always checked people’s desk for a hidden drawer.
Oh, the irony! Nicely done!
Bang ! 🙂
Poets tend to have additional inspiration(s) !
🙂 Oh Horus that’s perfect- multiple muses. guess he at least had a particular type keeping them in the family.
Intriguing, Dana. What a revelation!
Oops. Grandpa’s busted. 😉 Nice one.
He is indeed. I’m just surprised he kept his secret so long. Sneaky bugger. Thanks Rochelle
Wow! This grandfather wasn’t an nice husband!
I know and to think he was his granddaughter’s representation of true love. She has had one huge awakening.
Why thank you GingerLove. I had fun on this one.
THAT had me…brilliant!
Thanks Red. I suspect she will no w have to serious reevaluate your ideas on love an devotion. Obviously it was much more complicated.