Copyright © [Surabhi Parashar] [2026]. All Rights Reserved.

Here’s my response to this week’s photo prompt by “Friday Fictioneers” and my 100-word story to go with it.

Today we gather to hear Grandpa’s will, all of us back in the old farmhouse. I wonder if this is what he wanted, one last reunion. None of his children stayed; my father chose the corporate grind; my middle aunt became a teacher.

My eyes rest on the milk bucket atop the wooden cabinet. Grandma used it every morning. I can never forget the smell of her fresh pancakes and warm milk. After she passed, Grandpa couldn’t part with it.

I’ll take the rusty bucket with me today. It will look out of place in my New York apartment, but some things belong, no matter where you go.