“These trees are old, really old, Aunt Celia!” Buddy whispered to the elderly lady holding his sweet hand. “They’s older than you, even!” He skipped to a hidden tune.
“Yes, little boy, I know they are old,” she mused, smiled down at the intense face. “They were old when I was your age.”
His surprised face turned to laughter as he pictured this old woman skipping. “Then you know all about the ‘sterious dis’pear’nce of Miss Cassandra!”
“Yes, my dear Buddy, but you tell me all about it, will you?”
Buddy flew into the story of the missing Cassandra, a story handed down to each generation. Celia
hid her chuckles as Buddy threw pirates and ghosts into the simple
recounting of a young lady who ran away on eve of her wedding with her
fencing instructor, and her “’sterious dis’pear’nce”. “You reckon Miss Cassandra’ll ever be found?”
When Buddy finished the grand story, both were exhausted. “Come, little man, let’s rest here a while,” Aunt Celia indicated a bough leaning to the ground. She perched on the lowest bend, just as Buddy’s dog came bounding by.
His question unanswered, Buddy took off after his pet.
Great-Great-Aunt
Celia gazed at the ground beneath her feet, knowing that just a few
feet below lay Miss Cassandra in her wedding dress. Oh, well, Cassie. These things happen. You should never had trusted me.
Celia smiled. Life has been good.
Celia smiled. Life has been good.
This is photo prompt from Delores in 2012. I think this is from Atlanta, GA.
