fairy tale 100;
038. The partition of an inheritance
It’s a quiet sort of funeral. His grandmother would likely have wanted it that way.
He wanders through untouched rooms of the cabin he spent the first years of his life in silently, pausing briefly at the bedroom door. He’s never seen them like this before. Watches the way his father brushes at his mother’s silent tears, the tenderness with which he pulls her into his arms. He can’t hear the murmured words against his mother’s hair.
Roisin Thomas leaves them no money, little property. Brice is much better pleased with the momentary proof that his parents are in love.
It’s a quiet sort of funeral. His grandmother would likely have wanted it that way.
He wanders through untouched rooms of the cabin he spent the first years of his life in silently, pausing briefly at the bedroom door. He’s never seen them like this before. Watches the way his father brushes at his mother’s silent tears, the tenderness with which he pulls her into his arms. He can’t hear the murmured words against his mother’s hair.
Roisin Thomas leaves them no money, little property. Brice is much better pleased with the momentary proof that his parents are in love.