Image courtesy of Claire Fuller
‘You can’t take everything with you, Mum.’
Ben stuffs my knick-knacks into a bin bag, along with my shredded heart.
‘But they’re all the things I collected walking out with your dad.’ I swallow down a rising lump of grief.
‘Material things don’t make you happy, Mum.’
Later, I am curled up on the lumpy bed of the nursing home that smells of mildew. Ben said he wouldn’t visit for a while so I can settle in.
I’m going to change my will. Leave everything to a charity.
Ben will understand. After all material things don’t make you happy, do they?
Written for Friday Fictioneers. A weekly 100 word story challenge inspired by a photo prompt. Read the other entries or take part, over at host Rochelle’s blog here.