October 13th: Poor Esme

 
Several clusters of bobbly brown toadstools growing through sparse grass. Across the bottom of the image in mushroom-colour: #DRABBLETOBER
 

Poor Esme

There was only one photograph of my mother's youngest sister. Among the family groups, the little girl's portrait had a heavy, ugly frame. "Poor Esme," granny always said when she looked at it. Esme was never mentioned, otherwise, and I guessed she died young.

Eventually, I asked granny whether she was superstitious about fairies taking Esme.

"What?" she said. "Fairies? Do they steal children?"

"Never mind, granny. I just wondered about the iron frame."

"Oh, Lord love you. That's not to keep the fairies out." She chuckled as she set it back on the piano. "That's to keep her in."


As noted previously, I am re-using last year’s #drabbletober pictures. I don’t actually remember where I found that rather lovely crop of mushrooms (or toadstools). I’m pretty sure there are fairies living in them, though.