edgewright,
Literary: A Mystery for the Best
When I was young, my grandmother would always tell me this short story.
It was about her; how back when she was a child, she would always play by the sand in her old house every afternoon, and it always made her happy despite it being messy. One day, while playing in the sand, she found something buried there, something so special and nice that she has kept it since then.
And just like that the story ends. As a kid, I always wanted to know what that special thing was, but she would always say, “You’ll find out, when you sleep.” I would even ask my mom and my aunts about it, but they say that grandma never told them that story before and have no idea whatever that thing is.
Unfortunately, I never got to truly know what that thing was. Even after Grandma passed away when I was 8 years old, I did not stop wondering about it.
While rummaging through grandma’s old stuff, I found a few trinkets and jewelry that I thought could be the special “thing” she was talking about. Mom told me, however, that she only had those when she was dating Grandpa.
For many nights, I hypothesized and created my own endings to that story, but it just never felt right. Until I realized something.
Maybe it’s best that I don’t know whatever that “thing” was. Maybe Grandma really wanted me to be on the edge of my seat every time she would put me to bed. Whatever her reason might have been, or whatever that “thing” actually is, I guess it’s best to say that, Grandm, at least I know in my heart that her story will never end for me.
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