Thanks to everyone stopping by last week and a special thanks to those who left a comment. I really appreciate it.
I’m re-posting a story which I started a many years ago. It’s written in first POV, which has been a challenge to say the least. So, some of you may know the story already, but I’d appreciate constructive critique ☺
After placing the photo back into the diary, I over carefully turn the pages. After all, this little book is almost twice as old as me. Then the name “Konrad” jumps out at me. Grandpa! I swallow hard. It has to be him. I bless mum’s heart for teaching me the old German alphabet, Fraktur, which makes the reading so much easier. I trace each line with my finger and within seconds I’m completely engulfed in Grandma’s story.
“I received word from Konrad today. Finally the postman had a letter for me. I was hardly able to open the envelope my hands were shaking so much. It was wonderful to hear from him, but he’s doing it tough. He’s in Greece and it must be a beautiful place. They travelled through the Austrian Alps to get there. The way he described the mountains, the snow-capped peaks reflecting the sun, towering over him, it made him feel humble. The children loved hearing from him and him describing the scenery. They miss him. And so do I.”
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