Sunday Photo Fiction — The Picture Frame

AEE8322B-1ACE-4199-8393-22AD9D38D9D3Alice and her husband were going through her father’s attic a few days after his passing. “Michael,” she said, “come look at this.” She was holding up a large picture frame with what appeared to be detailed engraving on it.”

“That’s beautiful,” Michael said. “It looks like a carving of Don Quixote tilting at windmills.” Michael grabbed the frame. “It doesn’t look like it was signed by the engraver and there’s no plaque.” He handed the frame back to Alice.

“This is a really thick, heavy frame, isn’t it?” Alice said, shaking it slightly. “I think there’s something behind the engraving.” She tore at the brown paper on the backside of the frame. Inside she discovered a leather-wrapped sheath of papers. She opened up the sheath and gasped.

“Michael, look at this.” Alice held up the first page. It read:

The Windmills of My Mind
By Andrew Price

“What is it?” Michael asked.

“These seem to my dad’s writings and pencil sketches. Some prose, some poetry,” Alice said. “These are amazing. They’re really good, Michael. They seem to be autobiographical, too. Some date back to when he was a young man.

“What a treasure,” Michael said.

(198 words)

Written for today’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt. Image credit: C E Ayr.

11 thoughts on “Sunday Photo Fiction — The Picture Frame

  1. Iain Kelly January 21, 2018 / 2:37 pm

    What a great gift to find – a shame he didn’t feel confident enough to share them when he was still alive.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Fandango January 21, 2018 / 2:54 pm

      I know. Sometimes our own insecurities prevent us from “going public.”

      Liked by 1 person

  2. michael1148humphris January 21, 2018 / 5:25 pm

    Shared at last, great story. And a moral, if you don’t want it read destroy it.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sight11 January 22, 2018 / 1:07 am

    I always burn my stuff after I write it. It’s a habit I can’t shrug off..

    Liked by 1 person

    • michael1148humphris January 22, 2018 / 3:30 am

      It’s a habit which perhaps I should adopt. I have a mountain of notes and snippets of ideas. The village where I live have a bonfire in November, which occurs in the field behind my house. This year I will have a wheel barrow ready.🙂

      Liked by 2 people

      • Fandango January 22, 2018 / 6:44 am

        The only documents I ever burn are my tax returns once they are more than seven years old and must no longer be retained.

        Liked by 2 people

  4. anuragbakhshi January 22, 2018 / 10:25 pm

    Wish he had had the courage to share it with her while he was alive. But then, maybe it would not have looked like a treasure to her at that time.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. ceayr January 23, 2018 / 1:51 am

    Bitter-sweet tale, nicely done

    Liked by 1 person

    • Fandango January 23, 2018 / 6:37 am

      Thanks. I appreciate that.


  6. athling2001 January 24, 2018 / 7:47 am

    Well done. I like the idea of hidden treasure giving them memories and peace. I wonder if the father felt like his life was tilting at windmills when he wrote the stories?


  7. Susan January 28, 2018 / 10:39 am

    I found some of my father’s drawings and a poem he wrote when he was young. It is definitely a treasure. Nicely done.

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.