Summer holidays had just begun and Mom religiously packed our suitcases. Like every year, we would head to Grandpa and Grandma’s house in the country.
As much as I loved the contrasting life there, playing in the mud, climbing trees, swinging to my heart’s delight, devouring the delicious food Grandma prepared- what I despised the most was the odd looking house we lived in.
Grandpa was artistic, Mom said but to me he sounded crazy. Who builds a house like this? All the kids laughed at us and called us names. The possessed house they called it.
After a few years, we got busy with our studies and lives and stopped visiting Grandpa.
Grandpa and Grandma passed away in 2015. In their will, they had bequeathed the house to me.
After a few days I got a call from an agent. Someone was interested in buying that house. Good riddance I thought. But when I heard the whooping price they were offering, I was gobsmacked. They loved the architecture and wanted to convert the interior to a world class restaurant- a Michelin Star Chef was the buyer.
“Dare to be different”- Grandpa’s words rung loud and clear in my ears as my eyes were filled with tears.
Linking up with Sunday Photo Fiction, a weekly flash fiction hosted by Susan. Thanks John for the prompt.