torsdag den 5. november 2009
The Blue Vase I
“Are you sure it´s okay? I mean, perhaps she locked it because she doesn´t want us to to …” Chubby little Blomquist prattled nervously.
“Are we supposed to be sleuths, or what?” Jennings drawled while trying to insert another rusty key in the keyhole. He found one which seemed promising, but could not turn it around. He gave the old trunk an experimental kick. “Bobby Lou 1898” the faded gold letters said.
“I just …” Blomquist began when the next key suddenly did the trick. The lid of the old trunk creaked open, and the two boys took a step back into the shadows of the dusty attic.
They laughed sheepishly, and Jennings threw it wide open. “Is that … do you think that is …”
As I plan to publish this story in an anthology soon, I have removed the public version.
Dorte Hummelshøj Jakobsen.