It was a tiny thing to represent so much. Small as a fingernail, what design it held worn to near invisibility. Inside a miniscule image of my grandmother. The locket was the only keepsake I had of my mother. She’d had it around her neck when her body was found moldering in a garage – a homeless woman with nothing but a bag of rags to her name, except this gold locket around her neck.
Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “tiny.”