Friday Fictioneers
The Wrong Turn
“Tea Party,” read Alice, following the red arrow.
The garden was empty except for a table set for three.
A teapot whistled. Nobody had lit a fire.
“Hello?” she called.
A chair scraped backwards.
Alice sat, because running suddenly seemed rude.
The teapot poured itself. Across from her, a cup lifted into the air.
“Sugar?” whispered a voice.
“No, thank you.”
“Good. We’re out.”
Alice glanced at the third place setting.
“Who’s that for?”
The empty chair beside her creaked.
A familiar voice answered, “You’re late, dear.”
Alice turned.
Her grandmother smiled.
For once, Alice forgot to be afraid.
PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox
With love, coffee, poetry, and stardust,
— Maggie The Afterlove Voice 💫
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