Random Insanity

I'm trying something new--a story written in bursts from prompts. I'm forcing myself to write "small" since every other story is getting out of hand. I used to be able to write drabbles but not anymore.

Prompt: let things happen @ dailyprompt

Let It Go

Gram used to dole out the advice like she handed out free bookmarks in her store. Look both ways before crossing the street. Always be prepared. Chocolate fixes everything; here have another cookie.

The last piece of advice she gave me was to “let it go.”

“Libby, baby, there are two ways you can go through life: Holding it all in until you crack like an egg or let it go. I’m choosing to let it go. I’m free.”

Too bad she was talking about her impending death. Gram was like that, though. Always seeing the bright side. The silver lining. Letting things go before they could crush you under their weight until you were nothing more than shells and spilled yolk.

Gram was good at giving advice. And following it. Me, not so much. Which is why I’m sitting here at nearly midnight trying to balance the books. I’m nineteen for crying out loud. I passed algebra II with a B, but I swear it takes some advanced-level calculus to figure this stuff out. When I see how much red fills the page, I start to think Gram might have let it go a little too much. But she left me The PageKeeper in her will. This bookstore was her life. She lived, breathed, ate, and died for books. My favorite memories of her are tied to the smell of musty pages and binder’s glue.

I sigh, rubbing my forehead, then shove the ledger away. It doesn’t matter what grade I got in math or how long I stare at these figures. They’re still going to be red in the morning.

“Guess it’s time to let it go.”

Next: Lies I've Told