Grandmas Goulash

Her starving children swarmed like birds of prey.   “What’s for dinner?”   “Vulture Stew.”   “Isn’t our brother coming?”  “He’ll be there, children.”

Eyes locked and spirits meshed. As a man, he would fondly recall the friendship kindled that day and mourn the passing of a kindred soul.  Sorry that I can’t read you a story. Next time, I won’t forget my Kindle. 

Had that been a boat sinking beneath the waves? If only they had their computer – they could just scroll down to sea.

Once they’d been the yardstick for transportation. Now they belonged to the pawn broker and the horse next door had the last laugh.