The second set of short stories based on prompts such as first sentence starters and 3 random words. Some of these are quite old...can you spot the newer from the older?
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Bacon always reminded her of breakfast at her grandmothers. She spent a lot of time with the woman.
Her parents were quite well off, they excelled in investing their money wisely, and often took trips. They never took Marie with them. She was an only child, and she felt, due to the fact that they always left her behind, that she was more of a hindrance to them.
She loved all the time she spent with her grandmother though. The elderly woman taught her so many things. Cooking, sewing, painting little ceramic figurines. They had a lot of fun together.
Marie's grandmother told her stories of the 'olden days'. Stories of her grandfather, and the loved they shared. The man had died before Marie could know him. She was just an infant when a car accident took his life. But her grandmother and he obviously shared a loving relationship. Her grandmother never pursued another relationship with anyone after his passing.
Grandmother had tried her best to instill good values into Marie, taking up where her seemingly neglectful parents had left off. Marie's grandmother was her mother's mother. Sometimes, Marie would hear her grandmother scolding her mother on the phone for the way they seemed to... not mistreat... but neglect Marie. They were not openly affectionate with the girl. Marie still loved them, however. And they did always bring her presents after each vacation they took without her. At least they thought of her a little.
When Marie was seventeen, her grandmother passed away. It shattered Marie's world. Everything the woman had own was left to Marie, the sole beneficiary of all her worldly possessions. Marie treasured each and every single thing, like she had treasured the woman herself.
A year later, on another of her parent's vacations, their plane went down. No survivors.
Marie felt horrible. Not horrible in the fact that her parents were dead, but in the fact that she didn't feel horrible that they were dead. The loss of her grandmother affected her so deeply, yet the deaths of her own parents left little feeling inside her.
Of course, she inherited a great deal of money. She paid her college tuition straight out.
When her schooling was done, her degree in hand, she obtained a job at a museum. She loved her life. She loved her job. She was a very happy young woman. And even in the worst of economic conditions, she had plenty of money stashed away from her inheritances.
Every Sunday morning, Marie celebrated life. Not by means of church, as she did not believe in a god, but celebrating the life that was given to her. It was hurtful at times, but it was happy, too. Her grandmother had accomplished what her parents should have done.
This Sunday, as every Sunday, Marie sat down at the little table in her quaint little apartment, a large plate of eggs, toast, grits... and a lot of bacon... sitting before her with her coffee.
She talked to her grandmother as she ate her bacon, letting the memories of her youth surround her like a fog, and in that time, she could feel her grandmother's arms around her.
