Flash Fiction – Hidden Gems


I love my books, loyal, dependable, unlike that bastard I’d married. You always knew where you were with a book.

He virtually emptied our town house when he left me, stripping the walls of fine art and plasma TVs, all paid for by his jewel smuggling sideline. He thought I didn’t know. After 30 years of marriage I knew about everything, especially his nineteen year old girlfriend. He left my books though, worthless he called them.

I pull a copy of Wuthering Heights from the oak shelf and open the cover. Diamonds sparkle where pages once sat.

I love my books.


Written for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word story inspired by a photo prompt. Read the other entries here.ย 


58 thoughts on “Flash Fiction – Hidden Gems

  1. Once again, ignorance loses out on the wealth, literally and figuratively. Lovely twist, and a sentiment shared by most (if not all) your readers! Good books are timeless & priceless . . . and a girl’s/guy’s best friend. ๐Ÿ™‚

  2. Dear Louise,

    And I love your story. So very satisfying to read, to contemplate and to consider. I love the idea of the observant wife and apt pupil salting away a diamond here and a ruby there. Lovely work, her perseverance and your story.



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