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ABR Elizabeth Jolley Short Story Prize

This is to say I didn’t take the old lady’s things for myself, I was only looking after them. I wanted to leave the chocolate box in her garden so when she lifted the lid she’d find her ruby rings and diamonds and pearls each tucked in their own dark nest. It was nearly ready, only two more to go – Turkish Delight and Peppermint Crème. She would have understood. But it’s too late, and now I can’t decide whether to bury the box on the riverbank or flog the lot and go to Bali.

 


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