3 of 36

Write now Article Tools

I vaguely remember grandpa, much less the long hours each day he spent in his work shop.
I wasn't quite five when grandpa passed away, but seems like all I can remember is the smell of his pipe, his jolly laugh and calling me his little Angel.
Grandma was always talking about him, how talented he was at making things, like the matching rocking chairs in front of the fireplace where they drank coffee on cold mornings and the swing on the front porch that was so old the wood was rotten and barely hanging by rusted chains, but since he had made it grandma refused to take it down.

The old work shop in the back yard was off limits to me, even though I was thirteen, grandma refused to let me touch anything of grandpa's saying I'd break it. I hadn't broken anything in a long time and that was an accident when my hand knocked over my glass of milk and fell to the floor and broke.
Grandma got sick and died shortly after my fourteenth birthday, so mom, dad and I moved out of our rented house into grandma's house. It felt so strange living there without her, but some of their furniture and things remained in the house, everything that Aunt Mae didn't take with her after grandma's funeral. I don't know what happened that day but mom and Aunt Mae quit speaking.
One day while mom had gone to the store to pick up a few things I decided to check out grandpa's work shop. Curiosity overrode any punishment I'd get if I was caught. Mom had said many times that it was too old and unsafe to go in and forbidden me to go near it, but that didn't stop me that day. For some reason I had to see what was inside, I expected cob webs since the only window too high up to peek in was surrounded by cob webs and the door made a loud squeaking noise when I opened it.
Just as I suspected cob webs and dust, and all kinds of rusty old work tools and a table saw.
Something caught my eye up on a top shelf, looking up was a doll house, dragging a near by stool to the shelf I carefully climbed up, I grabbed hold, it was quite heavy, but I managed to get it down. A beautiful two story doll house with tiny miniature furniture in each room.
You could tell it wasn't quite finished, the outside was half painted and the little tiny shingles on top was about 3/4's completed, but none the less it was absolutely beautiful.
So overwhelmed by my find, I didn't hear my mom come up behind me, until I heard her yell,
"What are you doing in here". All I could say was "LOOK,LOOK". Then mom said, Come in the house Anna we need

• 1
• 2
• 3
• next page >>

Add your voice

Know something about Short stories: The dollhouse mystery?
We want to hear your view. Write now!