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Treasures and Travellers

Task: Write a story based off of the cover given. The cover was a silver jewellery box with a pocket watch, a key, and a pearl necklace in it.

A man once said that a mothers love is the strongest of all forces. To me, that is the truest thing that has ever reached my ears, as of April 21st, 2003. That was the day I got the news of my mother's death, a peaceful death, passing right by in her sleep. No pain. She had been young, but fiercely ill for nearly two years now. I would miss her, yes, but I was glad she had finally found her peace and her escape from her misery.

I was with my friends when my brother called. He was four years older than me, at 31. She's gone, he had said. I can't believe she's actually gone.

Neither could I. The funeral is on Saturday, He told me. ...We read the Will. She left you something special.

Did she? Her jewellery box, the one she kept her treasures in? The silver one, the one you always loved.

The one with her worldly souvenirs? From when she traveled? That's the one. She told me she wanted you to have it.

How's dad? He's taking it badly. I'm here with him, but I think he wants you to come home.

I've got a few loose ends to tie up. I can be home in a few days. I'll stay with him until then. It'll be nice for him to see you.

I'll miss her. I know.

Bye, Daniel. Tell dad I love him. I will. Bye, Meaghan.

We both hung up, and that's when I started to cry. She was gone. She was really gone. My friends had heard the entire conversation from my end, and they could figure out the rest. They comforted me for a while, but they all eventually had to head home. I cleaned up my flat and packed a few things, planning to drive the three hours home to be with my dad and brother for the funeral.

***

After the funeral, I had picked up the silver jewellery box from my parents house and stayed a few days with my dad, then said goodbye to my brother and come back to my apartment to go through the box. Inside were all my mother's most prized possessions, the ones she had always loved to see me play with, no matter how valuable they had been. A gilded and golden pocket watch, ticking away as if nothing had changed since I last saw it, straight from the heart of London, custom-made to perfection to fit my mother's wishes by her summer lover when she was younger, before she met dad. She hadn't had the heart to part with the beautiful watch after she married, and dad hadn't tried to make her. He wasn't the jealous type.

An artfully designed key that fit perfectly in my palm, brass, and from Germany. She had found it in a tiny little shop on a street corner in Berlin, and it just so happened that the shopkeeper was going out of business, so he gave it to her for free, along with this little silver box, carved and ornately designed.

A brooch, silver backing with a tartan bow and an amber jewel on the front, from Scotland. A friend she had met in Scotland gave it to her, when she stayed at his Bed and Breakfast. She wore this to any special occasion she could.

And there was her pearl necklace, creamy white pearls all perfectly round and strung together, polished frequently, from Cardiff, in Wales. An old fisherman had given it to her when she asked for directions, telling her that 'a beautiful woman should have beautiful things,' and then he pointed in the direction she wanted to go, gave her a toothy smile and headed off back to his boat.

There were more, but these four had been her favourites, because they had come to her in strange and special ways. I laid them out on the table in front of me, just looking at them. Right then, a little corner of paper caught my eye, sticking out of the tangle of treasures in the box. I pulled out a tiny paper, one of the ones you might find in a fortune cookie.