“Well, mum, which one do you fancy? Remember it’s going on the mantelpiece at our house, not yours so go with one of the bigger ones if you want. Don’t worry about the colour. Just choose the one you like and we’ll redecorate our front room to match.”
Gran looked at Dad and then at me. I shrugged my shoulders. Like her, I had no idea what we were doing here.
“What are they son?” asked Gran, “And why do I need one?”
“They’re urns mum. You’re going to need one – somewhere to stay when you move in with us.”
A 100-word story for this week’s prompt at Friday Fictioneers.
Photo courtesy of Sarah Ann Hall