“Who’ll gimme twenty, gimme twenty?”
“Didn’t your parents ever throw anything away!”
Dave’s comment broke my concentration on the auctioneer’s song. I glanced his way, but he was moving toward another table loaded with the treasures of my parents’ lives.
They didn’t throw things away. If it broke, they fixed it. If they grew tired of it, they stored it away in the attic. Struggling to get by, making ends meet, putting food on the table, was how they lived their lives.
The younger generation didn’t understand, but I remembered the stories.
And this is how it ends.
This is an entry to a weekly 100 word writing challenge sponsored by Friday Fictioneers. You can find more information at the link below.