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Weekly Contest #61
“Another box from the attic,” Callum said, dropping a cardboard box onto the glass coffee table. His thirteen year old son kept his gaze fixed on his iPad. “I don’t want it.” Callum sighed. “At least look at it.” The boy stretched his legs across the black sofa cushions. “If it’s more photo albums or old toys of mine, I don’t want them.” “Actually, it’s an old toy of mine.” ~~~ The winter of 1981 painted the town white. Eight year old Callum gripped his father’s large hand tighter. Snow crunched beneath his feet they trudged past glass displ...
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