Helen managed to hold herself together well during the funeral and the gathering at her home afterwards. But that was yesterday. Now it was time to head to her father’s apartment to begin the task of taking inventory of his possessions and to start throwing out those things that were of no value.
It wasn’t until she walked into the small room where he had kept all of his instruments and music that the full weight of her loss hit her.
“Dammit, Daddy,” she said aloud even though she was alone. “Why didn’t I inherit any of your musical talents?”
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. (Yes, I know it’s Saturday and I’m a day late. So what?) Photo credit: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.