This is my response to this week’s Picture It and Write challenge
by John Thompson .
Marie’s search of her ancestary took her back to Victorian London. There were plenty of books she could look through and articles from that period, what she had learnt tracing her family tree was an enjoyment of pictures. Photographs depicting the unspoken story, the invisible lines interwoven through people’s lives. This one gave little clue.
She stood at the photocopier in the small Newsagents in Pepperton Street and reeled off 10 copies.
Returning to her small apartment she cut them out and using masking tape stuck them all around. The bathroom mirror, her bedside table, the mantelpiece, the kitchen door, the fridge, beside the TV and finally inside her current book.
What of the other three copies? They were for her ancestors. She took her old saucepan outside and walked to the back gate of the block. Marie checked that there were no other residents around, then she set a match to the paper. Watching it burn into ashes in the saucepan. Praying that they would help her find the truth at last.
Something more than poor women buying cheap jewels to make them feel like a lady. There was something there that was real. Far from imitation and Marie was on her way to finding it out.