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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2025
Submitted to Contest #313
The crinkle of newspaper was the only sound in the kitchen.Anne folded a sheet over a porcelain bowl, careful not to chip it. The china was older than herself, patterned with delicate, dainty, blue flowers that had faded in places. Across the table, her mum, Mary, wrapped tea saucers with the same quiet focus she used to peel apples—efficient, silent, sharp.Neither of them mentioned the funeral.The kitchen had always smelled faintly of lemon soap and dust, but today it was overwhelmed by the scent of cardboard and old paper. The blinds were ...
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