“Was it really yours, Grampa?” Jake asked his grandfather as they walked hand-in-hand toward the old car.
“Yup.” Harry said. He hadn’t seen the car in years. It was a trip down memory lane that he’d avoided. His heart raced.
“Does it work?” Jake looked up at his grandfather.
“Doubt it.” Harry wiped his brow with the back of his free hand.
“Can we get in, Grampa?” Jake looked up, with the same blue gaze as his grandmother.
Harry nodded; he couldn’t resist those blue eyes. He tugged open the heavy door and gasped. Tears filled his eyes. Sitting on the seat was the metal box he thought he’d lost long ago. He picked up the container.
“What is it?” Jake asked.
“It’s every precious memory I have left of your grandma.” Harry patted Jake on the head
“Huh?” Jake scrunched his face.
Harry smiled. “It’s a box of love.”
Flash fiction prompt provided by http://www.writerlycorner.com/writerly-prompts/writerly-wednesday-462016.