Legacy

This is a guest story by Faith Cusgroy.

—–

When Carol was a child, things she read came to life.

“Carol! Put that book up!” Her mother yelled the night she evaded a warlock in the hall.

“Mom, she’s doing it again!” Her siblings complained as they squashed pixies against the car windows.

Carol read anyway.

As she grew older, distinguishing between life and fiction troubled her. Even so, she cried as her husband boarded up her library, but eventually, she forgot.

When she turned 81, Carol’s grandson and his daughter, Beatrice, visited her. Beatrice read The Secret Garden aloud, handing Carol flowers from the garden now and then.