Granny’s home resembles a classic antebellum southern plantation. It includes an exemplary portico, ionic columns and all of the balconies and gardens. It suits her.
She loves sitting on the porch and telling stories to the children, of the history and majesty of this part of Virginia in the 18th century, in vivid intensity and detail. “Were you there, Gran?” She only smiles.
“The Jefferson Memorial has ionic columns,” she said, waving a finger at the column I was leaning against. “Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration, you know. ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident,’ the boy did some beautiful work.”
“Unalienable rights, to life, liberty and the pursuit. You children ever wonder what ‘unalienable’ means?”
“My teacher said it means ‘Rights that cannot ever be taken away’,” said Jill.
“Does it now?” Gran replied.
Gran leaned forward and stared intently at us. For the briefest instant her illusion fell away and we beheld the alien in question.
Inspired by this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt, and (I admit) a groaner of a play on words. Puntastic!
ParkInkSpot 