|Sign up to receive the Books Leaving Footprints Newsletter. Comes out occasionally. No spam. No list swapping. Just email me! firstname.lastname@example.org Previous gifts include a short story, a poem, and coupons. Add your name, and don't miss out!|
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Third Place Winner of Birthday Contest
Stories inspired by this picture were submitted:
First place went to: John Lottery. He chose the ad for a year as his prize. Second place goes to: Ivy, and she chose the copy of my book.
Third place goes to another new entrant, Canadian Doomer.
Mabel watched her great-granddaughter playing in the grass. I'm going to be the one scrubbing the green out of those white clothes, she thought. Her mother is so wasteful that it makes me want to scream. She carefully kept her gaze on the child and pretended not to see her granddaughter's husband take a picture with his new camera. He was so proud of that contraption. She knew they thought she was an old fuddy-duddy, and she wondered what they would think if someone had taken pictures of her in her youth. They thought of her as Grandma, of course, not a wild suffragette who had spent many nights in jail. She had, in fact, been one of the first in her town to own a pair of rollerskates.
Suddenly, Mabel clapped her hands. "Time to get inside. The baby will catch cold if she's out here too long."
"Grandma!" Jane laughed and sent an appealing look to her husband. They were, Mabel thought, children and far too young to be married. "Grandma, it's healthy for her to be outside. You live in the last century, you know." She ran up and kissed Mabel's cheek. "We do love you, though, even if you forget that it's 1947." Jane knelt beside her grandmother. "The war's over, Grandma. I know you're not worried about Alice catching cold. You're worried about ruining her clothes with grass stains. But the war's over. Rationing's over. We're in a new era. Isn't that right, Mr. Scientist of mine?"
Arthur, to whom Mabel realized she had taken an instant dislike, shot her a wide, insincere smile. "She's right, Grandma. We're entering into a golden era. Nuclear energy. Unlimited cheap fuel - so cheap it's practically free. Our children will grow up with disposable clothing. Even disposable diapers! Alice will grow up without knowing a single want. Everything will be available to her, without work or effort."
Mabel pushed herself to her feet and then lifted the baby. "Nothing's free." She looked at the two of them, trying hard to be part of their exuberance. "Nothing's free."
CD, you can go to More About the Contest and choose any gift except the blog ad or my book. Be sure to send me your address!