By Paul Scott Wood
We dismantled the building piecemeal, salvaging the doors, windows, siding, and floorboards for resale. The bell was donated to the library. The five surviving classmates who witnessed it began to embrace and wept as they saw a chapter of their lives disappearing.
“I’ll take the cloakroom,” I said, and began removing the shelving and coat racks, when suddenly an old wrinkled white envelope with a red rose drawn on it dropped to the floor.
I opened it and read, Billy and I shared our first kiss here during twelfth grade. Signed Jessica Wiler.
Jessica Wiler was my grandmother.
Who was Billy?
I hope you write the rest of this story. I would love to keep reading.
It would be nice to read a longer story… you’ve got my interest…kudos…
Great three word payoff.
Liked this, but you can’t leave it on a cliffhanger like that – lol. Need to read what happens next!
I agree! More please 🙂
Very nice. Sentimental with a twist at the end.
Loved this. somewhat spooky?
This is a wonderful piece. Consider writing a short story from it. Well done.
Oh, ending with a clif hanger. I want more.
Tell me, quick. Love it. More?
Thank you!
Sweet little story!
This was fantastic! Truly want to read more.