(Trying again) You'll Never Know

"Ava amiloa ava croliay," the ink read on the old, yellowing scrap.  Bonnie hadn't even noticed it fall out of the photo album, the last thing given to her by her grandmother before her passing earlier that year.  The album was full of black and white photos of Gramma Camille as a child, and she looked an awful lot like Bonnie herself.   

As Bonnie continued to flip through the album while she sat on her bed, the last picture caught her eye.  Gramma Camille was standing by an old jewelry store, one that she always brought Bonnie into and spoke of the memories she had as a child there, and the glass of the window was...swirling...spiraling...it was like a whirlpool in water, spinning around and around...

(Okay, I am liking this idea slightly more...but I have to go for a bit...TBC!) 

The End

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