
“In my teens, pharaohs wooed me on Khufu boats.” Granny rubbed her journal’s spine; her grandchildren scooched closer.
“At twenty, I lived among a finagle of fairies collecting stars and moonbeams in jars we traded to elven for rubies and diamonds.”
Seamus let out a low whistle. Angie raised an eyebrow.
“At twenty-five, minstrels took me in. I played the lyre while falling in love with a golden-haired man.”
“Grandpa?”
“Yes. Yes. Now go. I’m tired.”
Seamus whispered, “She’s nuts.”
As Granny fell asleep, her journal slipped from her lap. Elves, fairies, moonbeams, rubies, and diamonds rolled across the floor.