Word/Genre Challenge #3

Number 3 challenge as set on FB, to include a given word into a given genre.

The word was Locket in Thriller/Mystery


“Amy! Come and say goodbye to grandpa, he’s leaving soon.”

A little girl all dressed in black, tears in her eyes and sombre walk, emerged from a side room where she’d be hiding, avoiding all of the other strangers she didn’t know.

“Argh Amy,” said a frail old man, similarly dressed all in black, leaning upon a crooked walking stick. “The last time I saw you, you were but knee high to a grasshopper.”

She thought that an odd expression, given the height one must be in order to only come up to a grasshopper’s knee. She wiped away her tears, sniffed, and smiled for her grandpa.

“She looks just like her mum did at that age,” he said directing his comment at Amy’s father. “That’s a pretty locket,” turning back the conversation. “Have I seen it before?”

“Daddy gave it to me. It was mummy’s.”

The old man cut a look of disapproval towards his son-in-law. “That belonged to your great grandma. It was passed to your grandma, then to your mother, and now….” The old man paused.

“Now it is mine!” finished Amy.

“Yes my child, it is yours. But I would put it….”

“Come along dad, it is getting late and you know you hate getting caught in traffic.”

The old man was hustled towards the front door, leaving his sentence unfinished. Both Amy and her father waved as he left.

“What was grandpa going to say daddy?”

“Nothing sweetheart. Just forget it.”

“What happened to great grandma and grandma? We’re they killed like mummy?”

Amy’s father wrapped her up in his arms, and whispered soothing words so as to take her mind off death, her grandpa’s words, and the locket.

At that moment an elderly gentleman entered the hallway and greeted the pair,

“A lovely send off.” He nodded as a mark of respect.

“Thank you,” replied Amy’s father, extending his hand. “Forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”

In reply the old man accepted the gesture, shaking hands surprisingly firmly given his advanced years.

“Mr Longstone, an aquantance of your, may she rest in peace, late wife’s great grandfather. And you must be Amy.”

Amy shuffled behind her father, clutching his trouser leg tightly as if this particular old man frightened her.

“She’s a little shy around new people.”

“Oh that’s okay, I must be going now anyway. Once more, my condolences for your loss.”

The old man opened the door to leave, but instead turned to take one last look at the pair of them, before then walking down the front path.

“Goodbye Amy,” he called out, but there was no response. Under his breath he continued, “I’ll be seeing you again soon enough.”

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


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