An old sewing machine, a daily reminder of a great man who had a special talent.
She had never met him; he died the year she was born, but he lived on in stories and memories people shared with her.
She wondered about him, would he have liked her? Would he have taught her all the things he knew?
“He gave his gift to you,” they say, and she questioned if it was true. Is there such a thing than an inherited talent?
Perhaps there is, she too loved to sew.
“Thank you Grandpa” she whispered and opened her shop.
(Word count: 100)
This is my entry to this weeks 100-word challenge. The Friday Fictioneers is held by Rochelle-Wisoff Fields. Click >>>here<<< and join the fun but I must warn you, it’s addictive.
I particularly loved this weeks photo prompt. Thank you!