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He was never without his padlocked bag. I once asked what was inside. ‘Secret, young man, secret’, he said.
It was left to me when he died, without a key.
Eventually, curiosity got the better of me. I cut off the padlock. It was empty.
He’d carried his secret to the grave.
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Thanks to Sammi Cox for hosting the Weekend Writing Prompt
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Brilliant storytelling and profound message. Perhaps “the secret” was not IN the bag but in being willing to hold one to it and keep it locked. Well done, Keith.
That’s certainly a possibility, Thanks, Suzette
Great premise and storytelling, dear Keith. Love the air of mystery.
Kind of you to say so, Nancy, thank you,
Very cleverly written Keith.
Thanks so much, Sadje.
You’re most welcome Keith
I love this Keith it is very profound 💞
Thanks, Ange, I have my moments!
Quite the tale! My hat is off. Thanks
Thanks for you lovely comment, Ron.
The things curiosity makes us do!
Great tale, Keith.
…as cats know only too well! Thanks so much, Pujan.
Indeed! You are welcome, Keith.
literally !
indeed!
Maybe it held his peace of mind.
Quite likely!
And my guess is he is till laughing…..
Of that I have no doubt!