Please accept my submission for Friday Fictioneers. I’ve been away, working on my WIP. It’s safely in a drawer now, and I will see what I think about it after the first of the year. In the mean time, I can get back to fun stuff again.
Fruits Of The Fathers
Now, she stood in some hallway. Rob and Ted talked about fantasy football. They invited her to go look.
She found no switch. Instead, sunlight created dazzling islands of light and oceans of blackness. Dust ruled. Someone had arranged keyboards on racks. Stacks of vinyl records sat on the floor.
She left dusty footprints. Everything was older, but unused. Someone had opened a small box. She found a program.
“In Loving Memory of Theodore Hamlish, Musician.”