You Can't Take It with You by Laura Carter

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The Current’s own Laura Carter is this weeks flash fiction author (check out her SA Current blog here). A slice of life turns into an epiphany. This is a now-I-understand moment: cliche is given new life in the story. Read on and submit: flashfiction@sacurrent.com. I'm still looking for six word stories (or single sentence stories or something equally implausible) for an anthology blog post. Start thinking. Then write. Then edit. Write some more and then send in what you have.

—Lyle Rosdahl

You Can’t Take It with You by Laura Carter

I always knew my son and his family would have no use for my precious mementos after I am gone. Bric-a-brac, knick-knacks, stuff! The furniture I inherited from my grandparents--a phone table with a little seat for comfortable chatting, the antique mantle. The beautiful set of china on which my mother served holiday dinners that shaped generations of family gatherings. I cherished these and many other family pieces passed down to me. But, who wants a framed, handmade baby christening gown? My books are all going for a dollar. People are rummaging through my clothes, handbags and jewelry. A bowl full of sea shells or a scorched set of kitchen pans--not treasures for sure. The estate sellers are doing their job of clearing the house for sale. But, there's no one there to tell the stories. Many times I tried to tell the story behind the porcelain figurines. The ones in the glass cabinet that I stared at my whole life. My parents bought those beautiful little ballerinas, with their tutus of Dresden lace, in 1947 from a German family who had to sell their precious keepsakes to feed themselves. But, how could that matter now? Surely someone will see their value and give them a good home, where they can be admired everyday as the beautiful works of art they are. After the good things go, it looks like the sad remnants of an inconsequential life. I hover over this scene, on my last pass through this world, the memories fade along with the disbursement of my possessions. And, now I surely know the truth of 'you can't take it with you.' --- Lyle Rosdahl, a writer living in San Antonio, edits the flash fiction blog & best of in print for the Current. He created, facilitates and participates in Postcard Fiction Collaborative, a monthly flash fiction response to a photo. You can see more of his work, including photos, paintings and writing, at lylerosdahl.com. Send your flash to flashfiction@sacurrent.com.

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