Despite the fire, it’s gone really cold out here. Glad I put on this big coat and the scarf mum gave me the week before she died.
I’ve been sitting here awhile now thinking about the events of the last few days and I came to the conclusion that I could forgive you most things, but not killing our mum.
She always said you had a mean streak about you, even as a kid. A heart of stone.
When I first tossed it on the fire I thought maybe she was right.
But eventually, it caught fire and slowly melted.
A 100-word story for Friday Fictioneers.
PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala