Lydia hated the old things her father insisted on keeping.
“Who needs this stuff? Ancient teapots and spoons?”
Her father admonished the girls irreverence for the past.
“These belong to your ancestors; gifts from the Gods.”
“I don’t want them. Ever.” She shoved the old silver items away.
“The last person who disrespected the Gods met a terrible fate. These items are meant for you.”
Lydia rolled her eyes and glowered. She was much more in tune with the modern age.
She landed with a thud as her feet slipped from under her. “What was that?!”
“I told you.”
Word Count: 99
A try at Friday Fictioneers this week. Click the link to read more.