Revealing my microfiction for the prompt on Wednesday, April 19th!
I pulled my jacket tighter as I stared at their gravestones. Chiseled marble, with colored pictures of their elderly smiles. A third, smaller one was tucked in at the side.
My daughter picked at plant in front of it. “Why are there three stones, Mommy?”
Her favorite story, mine too. It’s a story worth retelling.
I lifted her up and plopped her on my hip. Then, in a low hush, I said, “Did I tell you about the time Grandma accidentally raised Grandpa from the dead?”
Emily gaped at me.
“See how they have different dates? She’d come to mourn on his death date, and she’d brought some things to cast a spell to help him rest in peace. Well, she was a terrible witch. Full of love for magic and nature but couldn’t get a spell right.
“Well, Grandpa started banging on his coffin, disturbing the insects and whatnot underground. Grandma figured out what she’d done from them and rushed for help. She had a witch friend that worked at the cemetery, like I do now, who helped dig him out.
“Was he all gross?” Her eyes lit up.
I ticked her. “Alllll grossssss. And super mad. The coven helped send him back and rebury him. Then gave him a second gravestone to remind her not to do magic at the cemetery anymore. See here?”
I pointed at a tiny inscription. “No more magic at the cemetery!”
“Is that why you don’t let me practice magic here?”
“Exactly.”
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