The Treasure: Sometimes the Simple Things are the Biggest Treasures

@tess1960 (2387)
United States
January 29, 2008 10:59am CST
I wrote the following years ago, sort of as a tribute to my grandmother. Her birthday was this month, she was also buried this monh so she came to mind and I dug out this writing. The auctioneer speaks loud and fast, hurrying to sell the remnants of someones past. One dollar....four....who'll give five, they don't even know if the owners alive. Deep down among the clutter and junk, they find a treasure in an old trunk. A tiny box of purple and gold, tarnished and worn, it must be old. A little girl stands with money in hand, she looks upon the box and thinks it grand. At the back of the room an old woman hides, suddenly her eyes open wide. ................ Sorry folks I have to close down my internet. Please go here to finish reading the story: www.associatedcontent.com/article/199188/the_treasure_sometimes_the_simple_things.html Question: I was on a walk after visiting my grandmother in a nursing home and heard an auction going on somewhere and that prompted me to write this. Has a sound ever prompted you to write something?
2 responses
@writersedge (22579)
• United States
4 Nov 08
I wrote because of the sound of whistling in the breeze, leaves falling and the autumn warmth once. Wish the geese had been overhead, too, that would have been neat. Interesting topic, surprised more people didn't answer.
@tess1960 (2387)
• United States
4 Nov 08
It's anybodies guess here as to what will or won't generate comments. I'm going to check out your page. Thanks for the comment.
@jezzmay (1845)
• United States
29 Jan 08
I loved that.No,I do not think I have wrote anything,buy hearing something.I write at different times.I really do not know what makes me want to write.It just comes to mind and I think I better write this down before I forget.
1 person likes this
@tess1960 (2387)
• United States
29 Jan 08
I'm that way also. I can remember hurrying home and sitting in the basement in a corner crying and writing. I could barely read what I wrote the next day. My grandmother had Alzheimers and was in a nursing home. She recognized me the day I wrote this. I feel good reading it now.