A Father-Daughter Moment
The creak of the trunk's lid was louder than it’d been years ago. The gentle smell of peppermint was the same. It brought memories of pillow fights, paint wars, and karaoke. I could almost see the crinkle in the corners of her eyes and hear her laugh as it wafted through the air. Almost. With a sigh, I reached into the trunk and pulled out a black journal with two lockets wrapped around it. The leather was soft, warm, as if the lockets were alive and giving it heat. As quietly as possible, I unwrapped the cords of the lockets. Once free, I held them tightly in my hand before setting the journal aside.
