#WritePhoto Light

September 7, 2017 — board games, fiction #writephoto, ouija

light

Storms blew around the island all summer long, keeping the family inside the cottage much of the time.  The tedium and tension of being cooped up with members of the family we rarely saw was grating on everyone’s nerves.  We had little to discuss, so we talked about the miserable weather and the past when everything was better.  We remember childhood sailing regattas and foot races on sunny days.  We played croquet and walked to the village for ice cream when Grandma was alive.  Now her cottage was musty, moldy, and dark, used only for a short family reunion each year.  There was talk of selling the property and splitting the money.  People today want different types of vacations.

The hall closet was still full of board games, dominoes, and cards.  We prepared for the storms by stocking up on basics, and choosing our games. It was impossible to know how long we might be trapped without power, so we prepared for the worst.   Monopoly was a big favorite for the group. When we found the Ouija board we had to test it for old time’s sake.  Two of the cousins unpacked the board and sat across from each other at the coffee table.  They asked the board all kinds of questions about Grandma and our past.  We wanted to know if we should sell the cottage, so they asked the board if this was a good idea.  Almost instantly there was a large clap of thunder close to us. The cousins’ hands moved the pointer quickly to the words Good-Bye.

ouija board

ouija board

This was puzzling to everyone, since there had been no answer to the question. We all wanted the money but for some reason nobody wanted to be the one to convince the others to sell.  We thought it was disrespectful to the memory of our grandparents who built it to sell it to strangers.  We went to sleep pondering the fate of the old home as the whole thing shook  and creaked in the thunderstorm. Finally the rain stopped after two days of pouring like cats and dogs.  As the sun peeked through a cloud we took a walk down to the water.  The cottage and the future were still under discussion when a vertical ray of sunlight shot out from a cloud on the horizon.  We stopped in our tracks and stood silent watching this light stream down from heaven toward the sea.  This was the message the ouija board could not give us.  This bright spirit was telling us that our grandmother had long been liberated from all her earthly goods, including the cottage.  She had no need for it now, so we could do with it as we pleased. We all began to feel much lighter as we released our need to keep things we don’t even want.  Thanks, Grandma!

#writephoto

This story is based on the photo prompt from Sue Vincent in The Echo.  Please join us to read, comment, or write your own post inspired by these photos each Thursday.