PRETTY AS A PICTURE • by Bill West

Jenny sat beside her blind grandmother and typed ‘Golden Valley, Wales’ into Google Earth.

Planet Earth spun round. Jenny always liked this bit. Like flying–swooping down from outer space.

Aerial photographs filled the screen.

Her grandmother asked, “Can you really see it? White cottage, clipped hedges, flowerbeds and beehives. Pretty as a picture. Grandfather’s grave down in the churchyard beside the brook…”

Jenny found only hilltops around a flooded valley. Acres of water reflecting sky. The label said, Golden Valley Reservoir.

She glanced at her grandmother; her hands clasped together, her smile eager. Jenny blinked away a tear. A lump swelled in her throat.

“I can see it,” she said.  


Bill West writes out of Shrewsbury, UK.

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