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I fetched my jewellery box, lit the fire, told the tale over a hot chocolate.

They huddled close to hear my whispered secrets. It had been in the family for generations, handed down from mother to daughter. Hewn from ancient stone, fought over in battle. Lives lost for this very necklace. Markings, allegedly a protective talisman to vouchsafe long and prosperous lives for all that wear it.

Later, I dismantled our sofa fort and discovered the necklace I’d bought that morning had disappeared. No one knew where. My daughter helped me search, clasping the pendant tight hidden under her jumper.

2 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt over 7 years ago

    Con artist meets tea leaf, how fitting!

  • avatar

    Lisa Williams over 7 years ago

    Ha. The apple never falls far from the tree does it X

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