I inherited my love of reading from my grandfather. The oldest of eight children, Pop-pop dropped out at seventeen to work at the local factory. He’d planned to go to college, but his dream died along with his father. By the time his youngest sibling graduated high school, Pop-pop was married to his childhood sweetheart with a baby on the way. Family always came first.
After dinner, Pop-pop spent hours in his barn. One evening, I asked if I could tag along, and he agreed. Inside the barn, there was an old wagon filled with old mattresses and pillows atop bales of hay. It was surrounded by stacks and stacks of newspaper. This is where Pop-pop retreated each and every night, reading the day’s paper from cover to cover.
It became our nightly ritual. I’d follow my grandfather into the barn, and we’d sit side-by-side in comfortable silence. Pop-pop with his newspaper, and me with a book of my own.
word count: 160
This is my offering for the 111th Week of the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenged hosted by Priceless Joy. Many thanks to Yinglang for this week’s photo prompt.
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