After a summer break from blogging, I thought I'd get back into the swing of things by joining the Friday Fictioneers, whose stories I've been enjoying for some time.
|PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Ann Hall|
Pamela disliked her mother's collections of china and pottery. Shelves groaning with Wade Whimsies were a particular bugbear.
'What do you see in these twee little animal figures?'
'Now, Pammy, look closely at their intricacies.'
Pamela remained unimpressed.
At least the Whimsies were small. The sheer vulgarity of the collection of jardinières appalled her.
'One day you'll love them,' said her mother.
'Never,' said Pamela.
On the day that Pamela picked up the jardinières, courtesy of her mother's will, she found a note inside each one which read: For my darling daughter to learn to love.
Pamela sighed. 'Touché, mother.'