Flash Fiction #001: The Glass Bowl

She found it in the garage amongst debris and old tools, when she was nineteen years old. A small, blackened glass bowl with a lid. Inside were some rusty nails. It was charred in the fire at Clematis Cottage, before her parents restored it. Polish and soapy water revealed a silver lid and a delicate, multi-faceted storage vessel. Forty years later her daughter dips her fingers into the coconut oil it contains and asks about the pot’s history. Holly says she has always admired it. When she dies Holly will inherit it. Soon. Very soon. Somehow she must tell her.