He sat there, in front of the fireplace, the book on the table next to him. As he stared into the flames, he remembered the day he had been given the book – it was at the reading of his mother’s will. It was his mother’s diary, and it came with a small key attached to a chain. He had never understood his mother, and he had no idea what he would find if he used that key. Was her diary the key to who she was? Or was he going down the proverbial rabbit hole? Would he find peace here?
(c) September 2020 Bonnie Cehovet
Reproduction prohibited without written consent from the author.