Flash Fiction #111 – Oma and Opa’s House

I had wanted to see my grandparents’ house one last time before it was demolished. So when my flight was canceled, I couldn’t stop crying. Tomorrow my grandparents’ house would be nothing but rubble. 

I must have fallen asleep at the airport—I must be dreaming… because I’m looking up at the yellow house.

I hear laughter and see me, my brother, and cousins as children playing in the woods.

And then I turn, and there are my beautiful grandparents, smiling at me.

“We’re here, we’ll always be here,” they say.

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