Maggie ran her hands down the southwest corner of her beach house, flaking brittle weathered paint off as she stroked. Her breath caught, touching the tiny frame that housed lifetimes within its walls.
Grams bought it when Maggie was only five years old. Memories of playing on the jewel toned circular woven rug centered in the Great Room while a crimson fire roared in front of her brought a smile to her lips.
Her lids fell closed, she breathed in the spicy sweet cinnamon hanging in the air as Grams baked in the miniature kitchen. Pots clanging, a thick wooden spoon stirring the bottom of the pot, scraping up all the bits; fresh nutmeg, grasped between paint stained fingers roughly running across the grater, dusting her latest concoction below; and Grams' off-key singing, all echoing off the mahogany wood floors and unadorned windows, circling and swirling around her.
Maggie could feel herself in the room, over twenty years ago. And she wondered what this tiny haven would hold, how many more memories she could sandwich inside, now that it was hers.
Write on Edge has prompted us to paint our setting this week, with a 200 word limit.
If this is your first time here or you haven't stopped in on a day that I'm sharing a little fiction, Maggie is one of four friends, along with Cassie, Adrianna, and Lauren.
If you are interested in more of their story, you can read about Cassie in R.S.V.P. & Kick Ass Shoes and Maggie in She Runs, Getting There & Home, and all four women in Time to Tell.
This takes place while the four women are at the beach house.